In the center of the rainbow

Sydney “Meow-Meow” Hoberg

March 21, 2006 – January 4, 2012

amidst a sky so blue

this little bit of fur

sends her love to you

She frolics now amidst a peace

of gentle love and sweet embrace

and wants for naught within His place

I’m sure she wishes you could know

no matter what, or where you go

you gave her peace she’d never known

Somehow through life’s despair

You caught the chance to show you’d care

And even if her days were few

Megan, Jake … I know she knew

My heart aches for you to see

That loving her was meant to be

And though the pain of loss is near

Letting go you shouldn’t fear

For if somehow the tides were changed

If life somehow was rearranged

And she were faced with such a thing

She would search for peace to bring!

A life well lived…

Rest in peace, Syd.

I love you, dearly.

Stockings hung?

check.

Tree trimmed?

check.

Christmas lights?

check.

Packages wrapped?

check.

Last dash to the grocers?

check.

Oven turned, OFF?

check.

…..

…..

Unable to list a few items?

check.

You are not alone.  I’m standing right next to ‘ya.

Let’s be merry, anyway.  

In my eyes, I think you is downright, perfect.

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!

:)

Send elves…

‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through this house

all the creatures were stirring, especially that mouse!…’

…..

Here, have an old photo from the x-files.  I ain’t got no time to shoot no new foto’s fer ya.  I be knockin’ pans around in this here kitchen.

;)

Giving thanks

for the beautiful memories this special place has created within our lives.

We grieve for the folks of Stillwater, OK., and the students and alumni of the Oklahoma State University.

Go Pokes!  Peace be with you.  Gone, but not forgotten.

The happenstance of luck

A tail darted past the window, then another.    Who goes there, and why?

Dashing through the living room and on toward the hallway, I find myself flinging open the front door and into the faces of two pugs.  Neither of them wearing tags or collars.

Oh my….

What do I do?

I can’t let them roam the street, so I wander with them.  Down one block, up another, and pretty soon it’s clear:

We don’t have a game plan!

Reaching down, I take one of them into my arms.  Can I get the other to follow?

You bet!

…..

Home, and now what do I do?

There’s a yellow lab that is begging the question, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Three cats are echoing her sentiment.

The backyard is gated.  ”Why don’t you two doggies go play while this old woman figures out what to do, next?”

That yellow lab is beginning to ask her own set of questions:

“Whose backyard do you think this is, anyway?”  and “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Forget what questions those cats were asking.  Typing that language will only get me into deeper mischief.

I’m trying to get the lab to agree to disagree, but she’s not having any of the negotiations.  I grab her harness and leash and negotiate the recognizance.  Taking to the streets with a passion unbeknownst to all of mankind, we chart waters like never before.  Up one street, down another and soon it is evident.

There ain’t nobody lookin’ fur nuttin’.

It’s past high noon and there are hours to go before folks decide something has gone awry.  It’s time for a sign-posting.

…..

Signs up, but it’s the beginning of the weekend.  I guess I best plant myself in the front yard and make like a tree.  Maybe someone will notice me and ask questions. Soon those fading flowers are no more, that mulch is no longer impacted.  The sidewalk looks like it belongs in the house.  If it could shine, it would.  Things are so clean and tidy out here, but guess what?

Ain’t nobody lookin’ fur nuttin’

and with the absence of daylight savings time this day is fading fast.  We’re about to ride off into that thing called, sunset.

…..

(…Bread baking.  Pug.  That reminds me of that Italian bread, Pugliese.  Oh, and what is that?  Pandoro.  The Italian holiday bread?

I’m in trouble.  I’ve got their names picked out.  And so fitting!  I’m a bread baker.  Pugliese and Pandoro Pug.  Adorable.

I’m in so much trouble….)

…..

My strategic defense is waning.  The yellow lab is dancing restless at the wiles of her owner.  She hands me the car keys while jumping instantly into the backseat of the car.

I think I heard her bark,

“Drive, you crazy woman!”

Yes.

I’m sure I heard her.

…..

We are cruising the neighborhood  in hopes of finding the poor soul, or souls, that have lost their best friends.  Down one street, and up another, but nothing seems amiss.  Oh wait!

Could this be?

…I came upon her, honed in by the ESP of the canine.   My backseat driver…

Right there, before me, as I turned up the street, I noticed a car that had pulled over to the curb.  It’s driver was obviously asking questions of a family.

Could she be asking?

Dare she be asking?

…..

This story has the sweetest of endings.

Pugliese and Pandoro Pug have been rescued!

They evidently took advantage of an open gate, left by a yard crew and an absentminded grandma.

Oh my!

:)

What the heck?

I followed the instructions, down to the letter, but the results left me wanting…..wanting to go rogue, again.  Oddly enough, the first bake was on a whim, and after finding myself in the kitchen with less than even half the suggested amount of semolina called for in the recipe, I punted and simply made a note in the margin of the page.  (It’s good to take notes when baking, just in the event you get a lovelier than expected surprise.  This way you will have a nudge-factor in place when the gray cells go vacant and you are wanting to recreate that item.)

On my second attempt I nudged myself toward using more semolina, but still not the noted amount required, and this time I followed the dough prep almost to the letter, but then again, it was still not the specific recipe.  I documented it, anyway, and planned for a third trial, one that included the exact recipe written by Chad Robertson, in his beautiful book,

This is what I got:

The crust was beautiful, the crumb, not so much.  I found it dense and definitely not as moist as in bakes #1 and #2.  I’m left to believe that true success comes by being willing to take a risk, going rogue, pushing the envelope, trusting ones inner senses, or, more aptly, in being lucky.

Constantly, there’s a punt, a pass or a faux pas that wrangles its way from my doorstep into the kitchen.  I don’t consider myself a master bread baker, just a lucky one.  Playing with flour is therapeutic and soul seeking.  It’s a journey that has abundant joys intermixed with less-than-stellar moments, the ones of sheer panic.  Those are the baker’s best kept secrets and if lucky, only the compost critters know of your trials and tribulations.

I’ll definitely recreate Bake #1 to assure myself that it wasn’t a fluke.  I’ll even share my recipe.  I promise.  In the meantime, I highly recommend this book.  Without it, I would never have considered the seed assortment, nor learned a valuable new trick to handling high hydration loaves.  Fennel, sesame and poppy seeds are wonderful flavors melded.  Encrusting the loaves before baking is a personal preference; the author suggests that you incorporate them into the dough through folding.  You can’t lose, unless of course you fail to use them, and use them you must!

*I forgot to photograph the crumb of the third loaf, and since it is now three days old, well…..should I?  Na….I didn’t think so.  ;)

Stick a fork in me

I’m done!

The bounty of my drought stricken garden…

The apple of my eye…

Porky, da pig…

There was a recipe in here that was hankering to get out, and one that had taken me the better part of the day to compile.  I roasted, I chopped, chopped a bit more….oh, and I fried up that lovely apple-smoked bacon as buff for the whole enchilada mess.

It’s not like this thing should have failed.  It’s been a worthy go-to for fall and winter dinners for a couple of years now.  Something happened.  Perhaps I had a butternut squash that hadn’t rested its soul long enough, the Zesta apple that should have been a Granny Smith, fancy bacon, rather than the good old standby?

The heartbreak lies with the onions, though.  Those little sweets deserved so much more than what they got.   They fought a fierce battle to survive the lack of rainfall in this Texas garden.  At harvest, they lay braided against a forgotten corner of the screened porch.  I rescued them just this morning, knowing how perfect they were, or would be, for a lovely pot of soup.

Fear not.  I’ll return.  They’ll be another go-round, and hopefully it will be successful. In the meantime, have a sip of soupiness.  Pretend this is thick, creamy, succulent….cuz it should have been.  It is pretty to look at, though…

‘Mischief wins the war’

It also helps to know how to punt, or as happens with my favorite ball team: step up to the plate, step into the bat, take a steal, and know how to calm the jitters when things are looking dicey.

Bread making is a bit like baseball, too.  Sometimes it’s game plan, and then sometimes it’s simply, game ‘on.’  The boys had me a bit nervous in the ninth inning, but they rallied.  The bread did too.  It slid into ‘home base’ around ten-ish.  I tossed a clean tea towel over the piping loaves and headed toward my private dugout .

I’m planning another inning, covering my bases in sultana’s and orange zest before I slide head-first into home.

I can’t leave this recipe.  Twice, intentionally, I have walked myself.  The printed recipe is the coaches advice, and I’ve careened around the bases, free-style. I figure if I play with this thing long enough, I may just learn how to be coached.  In the meantime, i’m rogue.

Consider the tie.

and third times a charm.

The boys are coming home:  7:05 p.m., Saturday, to my local brickyard.

:)

GO TEXAS RANGERS!  

Things are getting dicey

Trouble began when I entered the room.

Call it a wild hair, a tempting of fate or a simple act of randomness.  I’m unable to restrain myself when wild yeast enters the picture.  I’ll try anything, once or twice, before I venture forward toward my next faux-pas.  Some call it, ‘beating oneself up beside the head’ but I prefer to simply consider it the flagship of all things, me.

Knowing oneself proves beneficial sometimes.  No longer can I pin the error of my ways upon the innocent bystander.  No slouching, no diminutive jesting, simply a necessity for my sanity:  Ownership, it becomes clear that I am heir-apparent, and with that bit of wisdom comes freedom to admit that it ain’t easy, being easy. But I do try. Take that less-than-fortunate display of seeded tile.  Earlier in  life I would have reprimanded myself senseless for being so careless. Of course, there was a time when I wouldn’t have opted to discard a spill, opting instead to simply shovel, as best I could, the remnants of my drop.  But living with three cats and a lab make it easier to toss, than chew….through fur.  Today, I simply vacuumed up the mess and continued on my way toward another round of that yummy semolina bread.  It matters not that I’ll be baking at a late hour.  I figure if I can tooth-pick my eyeballs open, fresh bread benefits me when I roll from my cozy bed  in the morning.  You’ll have to excuse me in the meantime. I’ve got to tear myself away from here and go root for my ball team.

;)

Tomorrow, I’ll show you how I threw caution to the wind, once again, as I changed the rules of my game plan.

Who needs recipes?  Take chances.  Life hits once, be sure to beat the Dickens out of it! Pretend that it’s confetti and your team is winning.

Slapping nonsense sideways

M1 and J gave me the lovely baking book, Tartine Bread

for my birthday.  I kept thinking I would wait until the shadows drew longer and the temps made their plummet before seriously losing myself in a baking challenge.  The mayhem of past weeks sent me scurrying for a salvation a head of schedule, so I dove in, head. line.. sinker…

Sure, I was minus a few particulars, namely the proper amount of semolina, but I simply rounded up with the call of the bread flour, cut a bit back on the hydration.  Oh, and adjusted my seeds.  The multitude of seeds:  fennel, poppy and sesame.  I was supposed to do something with them, but that bit of knowledge fell by the wayside as I inched my way through learning a new technique for handling high-hydration loaves.  I panicked for all of two seconds and then I settled for ‘winging-it.’  There’s plenty of left-overs which ought to serve me rather well when I jaunt into pizza-pie land  this weekend.

Learning Chad’s technique’s for wet dough manipulation is challenging, but I have no doubt that its success will prove beneficial.  I hold Peter Reinhart responsible for my insatiable appetite of sourdough and artisan baking.  The Bread Baker’s Apprentice is responsible for my overpowering addiction to yeasted nirvana.  Chad Robertson will prove guilty of taking me into the realm of the super-hydrated  soured madness.  Each one is a master, and both are a pleasure to discover.

Life simply gets better when one discovers the road less traveled.  All sorts of nonsense gets slapped sideways.  Rules are to be broken, recipes, altered, and if lucky, success if you adjust to the mayhem you’ve created.

This semolina loaf is my spectacular example.  I can’t help but wonder, will it taste as divine if I follow the directions?  Something tells me that it really doesn’t matter. Either way, I’m a winner.  I’m in the midst of greatness.

;)

What is it?

That has this beautiful girl so intrigued?

Rain!

It was the last week of May that we received a significant rain event.  Today we have rain!

I began the month wondering how much longer it would be before the DFW area had measurable rainfall.  I was so desperate to see liquid gold that I set about to offer up a contest, of sorts, to my family:  Name the date, and the hour that an inch of rain would begin to fall upon this particular address.   I’d bake a batch of cookies for the winner. Dates came, and went.  The airport received a bit of rain, a trace amount yesterday (or was it the day before?), but still, nil at this home front.  I got to the point that I began to alter the contest rules.  That inch of rain needn’t fall fully upon any particular day, I’d offer up multiple winners if their day(s) marked some sort of marker to the beginning or ending of the rain event.  Here were the predictions:

Josie, 09/16/2011 @ 8:15 AM (0815)

Charlie, 09/02/2011 @ 2:22 PM (1422)
Megan, 09/03/2011 @ 11:15 AM (1115)
Bernie, 09/04/2011 @ 5:30 AM (0530)
Charlene, 09/04/2011 @ 3:34 PM (1534)
Sunny, 09/06/2011 @ 2:00 AM (0200)
Kathy, 09/08/2011 @ 4:00 PM (1600)
Jacob, 09/11/2011 @ 8:00 AM (0800)
Beverly, 09/14/2011 @ 4:45 PM (1645)

I waited.  I’d like to say that I was patient, but truth is, I was a bit frayed about the edges from mounting concerns.  A forest fire near my sister’s place of employment, friends who had friends that had lost their homes at Lake Travis, and livestock trapped and unable to defend themselves against the approaches of fire.  I began to feel foolish for making a contest out of a waiting game that had so tragically affected thousands.

Today, I simply want to give thanks.  The sound of rainfall is precious to those in the midst of a drought, to those in the northeast, it is heartbreaking. My hope is that we all get what we need.  It may not arrive when we had hoped or planned, but to everything there is a season.  Never lose hope.   Without it we have nothing.

Today I feel most blest.

This young lady brings me hope on a daily basis

It’s cotton pickin’

time!

 

This beautiful flower is eventually that cotton boll:

Cat burglary!

There’s been a bit of action around the A-OK Corral.  Meet the new sheriff.  We will leave this guy in charge of our  investigation.  Rumor has it that he is quite knowledgeable.

Mr. Sheriff, a.k.a., Rico Gordon

Yep, there’s kibble all over this place!

Rumor has it that the guilty party made a visit to the crime scene.  This ain’t a pretty picture, but if you look closely you might catch a glimpse of the alleged perp.

 Mr. Clueless, a.k.a., Gilbert Grape (visible at seven o-clock).  hmm….

Pardon me while I nose myself into these clues.  It is quite necessary that I leave no stone, unturned.

The sheriff was in the middle of his investigation when he was suddenly dispatched to another crime scene.

Something smells fishy.

I know I said

“Thank you!”

I heard my family say it too, but I wish we had

just one more day,

one more chance.

To let you know just how grateful we were,

and are, for all that you gave.

…..

Yesterday a phone call came just as the long shadows of the day descended upon the house. Heartbroken and sobbing, a friend with a message, and one that comes so unexpectedly.

News that our vet passed away, suddenly, unexpectedly, just as he was preparing a pet for surgery.

If we had one more day, just one more chance, we’d take it to say,

“Thank you.”

Our hearts are heavy. Doctor S. saw us through the diagnosis of diabetes and treatments with Ace Ventura, the liver failure (and suspected cancer) of Whippie-Nippy, and the life-changing therapy that helps our Hannah live with arthritis.

We live in a small enclave of a major metropolitan area. The ‘vet,’ in-the-area, and the one that we would all come to know, and love, is gone. He will never be forgotten. Each of us is believing, more than ever, of the Rainbow Bridge. It makes this loss a bit lighter. It makes it almost manageable.  He was always there for us.  It is time that we are there for him.

Our thoughts and prayers are with those that grieve with us.

Remember the Rainbow Bridge.

Remember.  We are not alone.

Thank you, Dr. Singleton.

Thank you for everything.

an Apple

changes a life.

Thank you, Mr. Jobs.  I am forever grateful for your commitment.

Happy 21st Birthday, M2!

…May you enjoy a most beautiful day

I love you!

For your beloved…

This post is written exclusively for Jennie.  May peace and comfort surround you during this most difficult time.

I bee eggplant-ed

The poor garden is fading fast, with forty (consecutive) days of temps at 100 or above, its time to let this fat lady sing the blues.  I am down to watering the foundation and not the greenery around this concrete jungle.  Before I get to my finale, allow me to show off my prized veggies:

Globe Eggplant

Ichiban Eggplant

There were hundreds of blooms between these two plants, yet my harvest yielded a total of only five eggplant.

(There was a total of one zucchini, and a zero-zip of cucumbers.  It remains to be seen whether the cotton stand will survive.  Bolls are forming, and therefore, I’m hopeful!)

Even when a garden fails, nature wins.  Sometimes we simply need to look a bit harder to see the reward, but it’s there.  There were honeybees!  It was simply too warm to see the fruits of their labor, but I’m keeping out hope that they had some nectar to reward them.

Keep hope alive.  :)

Not an option

for a redo.  These were just ‘ordinary,’ and downright, boring.  Perhaps the flavors will perk up a bit after resting through the evening, but somehow, I doubt it.

 

Coconut flour Sourdough

One loaf has a pretty glow about it, induced by an egg wash dosed with a wee bit of honey.  The other loaf has a dusting of more coconut flour, each was added before the scoring.

The crumb is pretty, moist, and will most likely hold up well to a spread of peanut butter; it just doesn’t sing with the lovely notes of a usual sourdough.  It’s a good thing I boosted the poolish with a bit of instant yeast, otherwise there would not have been a fir sitting atop the high-rise.

No effort is ever in vain, especially when making and baking bread.  One can always claim that crackers were the intent, or simply, a toasting bread was needed for breakfast.

I was guilty of assuming that coconut flour would offer up the gusto of the earlier flax or hazelnut bakes, but nothing could have been further from the truth. Coconut flour does not offer the boldness, nor the texture.  I do think that coconut flour has its credits, though, and I’m anxious to add it to muffin and cookie bakes.

For now, I’m removing her from my bread baking repertoire.

(I substituted one cup of coconut flour to my bread bake.)

From the land of yeast…

Flax Seed Sourdough

 

This gal took a shine to some poolish.  She went a bit crazy when she met up with the instant yeast, too,  and by the time the mayhem was over, she’d attempted to replicate herself.

Flax-type temptress, and  honey-eyed, to boot!  I’d like to keep this gal entertained, but she’s just a memory.  I’m too busy using up my excesses.  My next venture?  Something to do with coconut, soybean, or garbanzo flour.

Da oven be busy, just like da sunshine.  ;)

Hazelnut & Honey Sourdough

Dare devil baking 101

This is what happens when it’s too warm to play outside.  I turn the oven on in the house and sit back to enjoy the ceiling fan, air conditioning and the clink of ice cubes in a glass.

Things get a little out of control on some days. Take for instance, yesterday.  I was bored and a bit weathered by events that had unfolded themselves the day before.  And then, I awoke to yet another day of 100 + degree temps.  I can be fried, beyond belief,  and then I can be downright, sizzled!  Such is the stuff that my dreams are made of, and today this was my refuge.

The pantry is laden with bunches of unique flours these days.  I’m feeling the need to get myself busy on using them before they become stale or fodder for the compost pile.

Experimental ideas are tapping coarsely through my veins; possibilities abound, whirling about my head as if I knew a bit of something.  Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m clueless, but I’m also fortunate enough to have these devices within my cubby-hole. I should use them before I lose them. And such is how I arrive to this bake. CAUTION:  I cannot promise success, and what this recipe delivers must come with a disclaimer.  I”m one of those sorts of baker’s that heeds caution only when the grease fire pushes me beyond the premises.  What I give, and what you get, will no doubt be a bit of mischief. Let’s just pretend we’re having fun until the kitchen blows up on us!

;)

…

Hazelnut & Honey Sourdough Bread

• 3/4 cup ripe sourdough poolish (rather wet)
• about one cup of hazelnut flour, finely ground
• 8 to 9 big scoops of King Arthur Bread Flour, followed by a bit more…Cups?  Oh, let’s just say we are working on 4 1/2 to 6, but even that is a guess ;)
• 1/4 to 1/3 cup honey
• about 1/4 cup peanut oil, more for coating
• 1 1/2 Tablespoons instant yeast (no need to prep, just fling it in at the start of the mix)
• 2 1/4 cups room temp, purified water
• 1 1/2 Tablespoons Kosher salt

…..

Mix all items in the K.A., or by hand and batter bowl with the EXCEPTION of the salt. HOLD THE SALT for now, we’ll come back to it a bit later.

Using your dough hook, run your mixer on medium speed, incorporating the mass for about two minutes.  Add additional bread flour until dough forms a round mass that clearly leaves the sides of the bowl, but adheres itself ever so lightly at its base. (Working with this dough will be a bit different from a regular bread mass.  Strength character is not consistent, but no problem!  Just note that your expectations will be a bit skewed for now.  All will be okay.)

Turn mixer off, STILL DO NOT ADD THAT SALT! and cover your mixing bowl with an airtight piece of plastic.  Take a 25 minute break, using your time to sip and clink your beverage, or if you must, get that kitchen back towards, straightened.

tic, tock, tic, tock, tic, tock.  Times up!

Grab your 1 1/2 Tablespoons of salt and head back to the mixer.  Remove plastic and dump the grains in while turning the speed to medium once again, now mix dough for another two minutes.  Check dough at this point, if it is slack, add another bit of flour, securing a mass that moves freely away from the sides of the mixer, but proves damp enough to resist at the bottom.  It should look like it wants to ‘let go,’ but sticks barely to its base.

Don’t get lost in the details.  Don’t panic.  AND don’t think you can’t do this.  Every challenge is a learning tool.  We aren’t going for prizes with this sweet thing, we are simply enjoying our rendezvous from the ordinary.

…

Stop the mixer and take a five-minute break.  No need to cover the dough.

After your five-minute refresher, turn the mixer back on and continue mixing for two more minutes.

Pour peanut oil into your hands as if it were hand lotion.  Gather dough mass and roll it into a ball.  Set back into the bowl and cover with plastic.  Set timer for 50 minutes.

tic, tock, tic, tock, tic, tock.  Time’s up!

Returning to the dough, once again, place another bit of peanut oil on your hands.  This time, instead of lifting and shaping the ball of dough, you will need to gently stretch it, pulling lengthwise and folding, edge to center, center to edge.  One or two good stretches.

Return the dough to the bowl, cover and set the time for an additional 50 minutes.

tic, tock, tic, tock, tic, tock.  Once again, go through the motions of stretching your dough.

Cover and allow to double in size.  (This didn’t take long in my kitchen, I live just north of Hades, at the mark of the triple-digit bypass.  I think, it ran me about an hour and a half, two hours max.)

Punch down the dough and set about finding bakeware.  I used a large loaf pan and three small loafers for my bread.  Oil your bakeware, well.  Next, using a dough scraper, kitchen knife or whatever you use to cut dough, divide according to your baking dishes. Allow the loaves to rise to double.  (Mine took about 45 minutes.)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Sprinkle bread flour over the tops and score right before setting into the oven.  Bake for 15 minutes, turn loaves and continue baking for another 15 minutes for small loaves, and an additional 25 minutes for the larger loaf, or loaves.

NOTE:  I baked this bread at a much lower temp than a regular sourdough because of the addition of nut flour.

…

The fabric of my life…

Seeking shade

in the most unlikely spot of all

 

 

and doing a bit of Kung-Foo fighting in the process.

…..

I traipsed across the garden to move the hose and burnt the bottoms of my feet. Glancing up, I note the triple digit reading of the outside thermometer.   Why had I ventured out without my flip-flops, barefoot into the summer?  And why, oh why, am I watering at high noon in Hades?

Because I am

a true Kung-Foo fighter.  I like living on the edge.  Of the airport.  Concrete jungle. Freeway funnel.  Land of mayhem.

Almost.

Because, all is NOT in vain.  This year there are honey bees.  Flitting about the perennials and frolicking in the vegetable garden.  Forget that nothing will produce to a hill of beans (even the pole beans, themselves); it’s simply too hot, but fret not!  I have the honeybees.  They have a place to play, and hopefully, just hopefully, they will wait out the forbidden; surviving this sweltering sizzle, in hopes of finding

a shaded bit of green,

I water for the bees.

:)

When logic and common sense fail

Gather your hope and faith

knowing that your porch light

stands as a testament to justice

Sunshine came softly…..

Start me up!

(Daughter to mother:  Where is the guacamole?)

The last time I got my sourdough starter out and played with it is a distant memory.  It’s been so many months that I basically had to ‘refresh’ my memory as to which of my dried starters it was that I considered my fav.  Cleaning out and cleaning up the fridge this past week, I came across three different versions of the original, Alpha Omega.  Which to use?  Did it matter?  And most important, why are there three packages and only one that is dated?

Okay, it’s obvious.  I don’t take good notes.  Well, actually that’s not true.  I’m rather anal when it comes to noting distinct differences when baking in trials. One needs good bench notes, it’s imperative if you are being relied upon to offer a true reflection of the masters work.  But, in this kitchen, when working within the confines of a familiar bake, caution is tossed to the wind.  I’m a bit of a rogue when left to my own devices.  It’s fun to push the limits when no one is looking, nor relying upon a controlled output.

Today’s bake is a true example.  I went with the obvious favored packet, the one with a date,  June 17.  The year?  Oh heck, I knew you were going to get technical on me. Let’s just say it was 2010 and agree to disagree upon the reason that the other two came about either before, or after that date.  After all, how can a non-dated item vie for a place as, the favorite?  As for Alpha-Omega, the baby that started this whole love affair, he was born in October of 2007.  A labor of love and dedication brought forth by the passing of a precious little cat, Whippie-Nippy.  Had I not immersed myself into something positive, surely I would have succumbed to the grief that labored at my doorstep.   As we all know, losing a beloved pet is as devastating as losing a member of the family. Actually, the two cannot be distinguished from the other.  To love, is to love.

And if the truth be known, I would have loved the other two starters as equally as the ‘favored’ one, but there’s still that element of control within me, for sake of argument, I’m charging June 17th, XXX with the results of today’s mayhem, for after when all is said and done, Alpha Omega bears witness to the very existence that a culture can create its bake.

Rolling more than the dice

Today’s argument

(Mother’s comment to daughter:  I haven’t forgotten our challenge.  I simply haven’t gotten to the grocery store.  ;)

The inside scoop on the daughter’s request can be found, eventually, at BlazingBurners.wordpress.com   Each Sunday we challenge ourselves to a baking or cooking challenge within our respective kitchens.  California and Texas square off almost weekly.  Or at least, we try.  This week M1 challenged me to a guac contest.  She’s waiting for me to get my act together.  In the meantime, I’m starting up my sourdough yeast as a diversionary tactic.

;)

Millie & Max

(above photo by Mallory, a.k.a., M2)

Millie and  Max appeared earlier this week.  Roaming this urban landscape, they seem content to simply rest and rendezvous among the neighbors pools and landscapes.

Perhaps they have come to simply wait out the latest furious dance of Mother Nature.

Fury

Botanic Zen

Things to ponder

and a place to do it…

I could spend hours out here and never grow weary.  Well, that is unless I’m not sitting, but hauling and strategizing.

The soil is undergoing a major metamorphosis this season.  Besides the composted kitchen items, its getting its fueling from composted manure, and some earthworm castings.  The little green lady is also being fed a diet of fish emulsion, here and there, and she’s also been the recipient of a bottled organic compound that guarantees healthy root systems.

 Comfrey plant

Trying hard to amend soil that has been neglected is a challenging thing.  Who would have thought that playing in dirt could prove so enticing?

There’s cotton in them thar fields!

Front and center, little specks of green to the eyeballs.  My neighbor offered me some seeds and since the root crops had been chewed to smithereens by the butterfly caterpillars I felt it was time for round #2 of spring planting.  I’m not sure how the crop will do, it’s nestled between a clematis and some swiss chard, both of whom will require a bit more water than the fabric of our lives, plant.

Fringe flower, a.k.a. Chinese Witch Hazel

Also referred to as the witch hazel plant.  This little girl was initially planted in my front yard flower bed.  She grew rather robust and was sent into exile of the backyard.  She flourished, again, and two years ago I made the decision to see if I could train her into a tree.  I’d read that it could be done!

She stands as one of my most prized specimens.  I covet her and the Texas Nandina that set up shop, unannounced, about the same time that year.  I’ve nicknamed that girl, Leta, after the very special neighbor that warned me about the little hijacker.  ”Marge, don’t pull that up thinking it’s a weed.  It’s not! Replant that where you want it to flourish.”  I did so, never knowing that it would prove to be the stand-out that it has become.

Texas Nandina, lovingly nicknamed, ‘Leta’

There are little babies that have hatched from the mama’s seeds.  I’m allowing them to naturalize for the time being.  Eventually, they will be moved to another area of the yard.  Perhaps somewhere along the new project I’ve got growing.

This girl rode in our her tricycle, and she ain’t never leaving.

It ate my whole lunch…

Have you ever been guilty of taking on more than you can chew?  That’s how this thing began.

The tired old screens were seen blowing in the wind.  Weathered and dry boards screamed obscenities, and the paint job?  Parts of the old girl still showed signs of someone’s  fixation with all things, 1980′s, and the coloring shade of dusty blue.

One day I simply couldn’t face her anymore.   As embarrassed and ashamed as I was, I attacked this little lady.  Before the mayhem was over, I found myself in the aisle of the big-box store purchasing one sander, then another.  Yes, multiples.  This household blew through sand paper like toilet tissue. And then there was the paint stripper, ghastly and vile stuff in its own right.  It besieged me with its attitude and stripped me of multiple plastic gloves before I realized that there had to be a better way to manage this corrosive dynamite.  In due time I would learn the value of necessary and essential equipment, but initially I was…

just plain dumb!

…and then came the winter.  We set about to encase this little woman in a good wrap of plastic, secured tightly by fifty-kazillion staples.  She held taunt for about a week, or two, before I wound her securely with some lovely duck tape.  That set her straight, or at least until the next batch of 40+ mph winds. Finally we opted to consider our efforts as an entertainment.  It was necessary.  This tired old woman kept reminding us that we had long neglected her and now it was time for a little, payback.  We fought plastic wrap and staples, duck tape and a seemingly endless array of props, used to stabilize Jezebel’s enrobing.

But in late February, I’d enjoyed all I could of this VH1 classic.  I fully disrobed her. Discarding her toga into the trash can and once again making a move to right my ways with the old lady.  Paint thinner, sander and stain, fell miraculously into my hands.  My mission was set.  I was going to the summit!

March came, and I announced that it was time to locate someone to do a bit of trim work.  Hubs kept saying, “Oh, that can be done, easily.”  But, what he really meant by his words was more akin to…

“Cutting boards and installing screen won’t take us any length of time, and that masonite board is a quick fix, too.”

I kept hearing the wrong things.  Maybe it was my exposure to the caustic acids, the lead-paint fumes of faded blue, or maybe, just maybe…

I was tired.

…  I’m good at dialing phone numbers.  I’m notorious for haggling.  I’m an expert at entertaining workmen.

Oh, wait a minute

…  what I meant to say was:  I’m good at staying out of the workmen’s way, especially when they are dining on my screened-in porch.

;)

Girl to boy…

Can you comb the tangles from my hair, dad?

My hair is mussed-up from our ride.

Who, me?

Yes, you!

But I was only taking a sip.  Really, just a sip…..

…..

This poor little kitty is having a rough go of it.  Her mother and father have recently adopted a canine.  She’s lost, looking for an escape, a bit of freedom from the stresses of co-habitation with the puppy.  She’s tried climbing to the top of the cabinets, escaping to the recesses of the closet, and cuddling down as closely as she can to her humans. It’s to no avail.

Miss Fancy-Pants, a.k.a.,  Miss Zulu the doggie, does not take the hint.  In desperation, our feline has taken to drinking.   Her grandmother is interceding.  An airline ticket is in the cat’s email.  Now all she needs is for that dog to drive her to the airport in Sacramento.

Stay tuned.

…..

Do I look dangerous?

Seriously?

…..

These photos have been ‘lifted’ from our parents website.  None of us are responsible for grandma’s behavior, especially, grandma!

It was so peaceful…

The sweetest of slumbers…

What is that?

Seriously, what is that?

Shhh, I’m sleeping.

Spuds & Soup

Journey with M1 and I into the land of the Blazing Burners, where we have constructed two more items from Lauren Ulm’s, Vegan Yum Yum, cookbook.

Do you enjoy a good roasted potato?  Yeah, I thought so.

How about a hot bowl of steaming vegan soup?  Okay, let me coax you into it:

Take a seat…

It’s for your own good, girlfriend.

Time’s a wasting and you must be post-haste in listening to us.

Doctor’s orders…

Family’s orders…

BFF orders…

All of us.  Each and every one of us wants you to heal.  We know you aren’t comfortable. So heed our words:

Get used to it!  Life ain’t easy.  What did you think this was, a cake-walk?

Okay, perhaps we are a bit harsh, but we’re trying to stiffen you up a bit. After all, aren’t these the same words we would hear echoed if we were down and out? I mean, if one of us were propped up in a chair, staring at the floor for the better part of three weeks?

(Sorry, but this pic will have to do.  We don’t have a photo-op of that item you’re been subjected to for the next three weeks.  Try to smile, for us.  Okay?)

Seriously.

We are trying to get through to you, even if it means playing rough around the edges.

We love you.  You mean the world to us.  Take good care of yourself.  You’re been there for us, now let us be there for you.

There.  We feel better.

Now take a seat.  Get well, and know that perhaps distance stands between some of us, but not all.  Allow those who can, to help, and those that can’t, to give thanks to those that can.  We hope you find comfort in knowing what it means to have you as our friend.

We want wants best.

Now take that seat!

A strange twist

occurred while recounting this past Sunday’s dinner, and it wasn’t until M1 drew it to my attention:  Our bake of the week was mega-dosed with starch!  Now, before I go forward, I have to admit something:

I learned, in a ninth-grade home economics class, that no meal should contain copious amounts of starch.  You know, things like:  don’t put peas with potatoes, rice, or noodles. If you do, Betty Crocker will visit and remind you that she is not a figment of someones imagination, she’s real, and she’ll crack a whip and banish you from that room called, kitchen.

Okay, a little history here.  I was raised in a large family.  The two men foraged for wild game, occasionally, and when they arrived home with their spoils it was up to the women folk to prepare (and disguise), the proceeds.  To this day if i enter a restaurant and someone shows me a menu with, x, y or z (wild game cards), I instantly fall to the floor and pull the table over my head.

It’s not the rifle shot that spooks me, it’s that next meal plan that does me in!

Yes, I thought of Bambi, often, but I mentioned that baby only once.

It is not wise to bite the hand that feeds.

Where was I going with this?

Oh yes, so, when that home economics class was offered, I took it!  What better way to learn wild game disguises than from a master of all things, cookie and cake battered. Between, Betty and Better Homes & Gardens, I pegged myself almost successful.

Ever so mindful of how I might surprise and amaze the masses with a tender, and succulent dish, and knowing that it would never happen, I opted to balance the remainder of the plate with the most careful diligence.  It was necessary.  The six children in the family depended upon each other.  If one wouldn’t eat it, you can sure bet the other five were going to prove that they would!  It is not good to be the lone wolf, ever.

Sunday,

clueless and wanting, I set about to master this weeks recipe.  I negotiated the cookbook, alrighty, but failed to note the balance between the resources.  Let’s just say that if this weeks fare were a pair of blue jeans, they’d be standing on their own. Starch, magnified, and although the dish was tasty, it left me feeling starved two hours later, and at about that time, M1, called to report she was ready to write-up her experience for, Blazing Burners.

I had hopes of getting M2′s input on this weeks baking of, Blazing Burners, but the winds blew fierce and storms threatened.  Instead, I pushed her out the doorway of one home, and into the safety of another.  She made it back to campus, wind-blown and minus a meal, but out of harms way.

It’s just as well.  She would have found herself rummaging through the fridge and cabinets for something to munch upon, and with shopping delegated to Monday’s, things can be a little dicey by Sunday’s eve.

You can view the photo-ops from this weeks challenge and read our adventures if you click over to that other site.  Be forewarned.  I hadn’t a clue I was shy a few bits of protein and snacking on a tad bit more starch than was necessary, but there is justice.  I didn’t have to do any disguising.

;)

Noodle me again!

It was my week to nominate the recipe for our Sunday dinner.  I’d been thumbing the pages of my trusty little cookbook, when Pasta Gremolata (pages 205-207), of Lauren Ulm’s, Vegan Yum Yum, hit me between the eyes.

Pasta.  It’s always a winner in this house, and especially if it offers up a chance to nibble on something other than the hearty red sauce I generally serve up during the winter months.

Today’s recipe gave us the red, but lightly, served up as julienne slices of sun-dried tomatoes. Fresh parsley, garlic roasted in olive oil, toasted bread crumbs, some lemon, and a bit of freshly ground black pepper, marked this dish as a winner!  Notes from the kitchen, operating in Kelseyville, tell a similar tale.  Both families will revisit this item. We’ll probably do it often, too.

To read more about our dueling kitchen musings, visit us at,  Blazing Burners.  We engage in mayhem each Sunday, and  hopefully at dinner time.  (Our mayhem is good-natured, not intended to defy, but to gladden.)  So far, so good, neither of us has been tempted to trip the other up,  the Sunday schedule seems to be operating according to plan, but we can’t always guarantee a weekly success.  After all, this is life, and you know how it goes:  Sometimes on schedule, and now and then, simply packed between the unexpected.  We try to go with the flow around here, so you’re expected to do the same.  Show up for dinner.  It’s okay if you’re late (our dining is set at both, Pacific Standard Time and at Central Standard Time!). ;) It’s also okay if you bring a guest(s). We don’t have a dress code and we prefer that you don’t either.  We like to lounge in our grubbies, socks in the winter, barefoot in the summer. Bring your dog.  Heck, bring your cat.  We have critters that can keep them entertained, or likewise. Seriously.  We aim to serve, we just aren’t sure if it’ll be on paper, or china.  But don’t fret, we promise that it’s clean.  Really.  Or at least it was when we took it out of storage.

;)

Signed, sealed & delivered

…..

I had aspirations of making a Valentine.  You know the sort.  Smudged with the tell-tale signs of a white glue frenzy, brought forth by an afternoon spent cutting and pasting construction paper hearts, red and pink, across the lid and sides of a shoebox.  But I wondered, did I have construction paper?  Glue?  A shoebox?

Mentally, I scavenged the corners of my cave.  I had everything I needed, except for the paper and the box.

Yes.  I could decoupage my life, but I wouldn’t be able to dazzle its frame in color, nor contain it in a rectangle.  I had to find myself a Plan B.

…..

A sugar craving led me to a frenetic search for the alternate expression.   Sugar was my answer. Yet, I knew better.  Sugar always leads me down the path of least resistance. Nothing I said to myself could sway me from my next course of action.   I found myself at Sam’s, staring at a 5 lb. bag of confectioner’s sugar and contemplating the plot dialog.

Do I need this?  Sure looks cheaper than going the one-pound route via the local grocer’s. How much action was I planning?  Was there really a game plan?  Or, was I teetering on the abyss of yet another, OCD exchange?

I found myself at checkout with what I came for:  laundry soap and a bag of tissue.  It wasn’t until I arrived home that I discovered I’d accidentally transported that item in question.

I guess I’d best find a Plan C.  After all, I don’t think it’s healthy for a kitten to chew into the proceeds of a five-pound bag of dust particles and right now he seems to be quite excited about my questionable purchase.

…..

I had a justifiable reason for this foray.  These weren’t just Valentine’s, these were, Home is where the heart is, cookies.  A sweet little girl moved to a sweet new home.  I wrapped my heart around the thought of letting her know how much she means to me.  I rarely see her, and almost never talk to her, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t think of her.  :)

Pretty in pink

There was now a fine dust settling over everything in my kitchen.  Some of it flour, but a lot of it, sugar.  I had butter, everywhere.  And then there were the cookie cutters, strung about as if they were begging to be hung upon a pine tree.

I was beginning to wonder about my kitchen addiction when it dawned on me that everything that was, out, needed to be put back, up!  The thought crossed my mind, for a half of second, What if I just continue, and in the end I’ll have less excess?

On the threshold of mania, I reminded myself of a few other commitments that lurked in the recesses of my mind.  It was now time for me to conjure a plan to end all other plans:  Plan D.

…..

Cookies had taken over my whole existence.  I found them everywhere.  I stuffed them into boxes provided by my local post office.  I ran through rolls of strapping tape, came up short on a few ink pens.  I put mileage on myself and my vehicle as we plotted the best plan of escape:  DEADLINE

And in the end.  I found solace with sugar and flour over cardboard and construction paper cut-outs.  It remains to be seen if I can control myself in the future.  I love sugar, just as much as I love, Valentine’s Day!

Here, have a cookie…..

Noodle time

Firing burners on two home front’s, we made our way into the land of the udon noodle for our weekly cooking challenge.  Surprised by what we have been missing, both households now agree that we’ll be serving them up more in the future.

Seven Spice Udon Noodles

Today’s cooking came from page 215, of Lauren Ulm’s, Vegan Yum Yum, cookbook.  If you’d like to read more about our adventure, visit us at, Blazing Burners.  (M1 and I choose one vegan recipe a week, coordinating our Sunday supper experience via web shots, texts and phone calls.)

Please note:  We do not publish recipes from the cookbook.

A collard green…

appetizer?

It’s Sunday, and time for another, Blazing Burners, episode.  This week, M1, and I try another recipe from, Lauren Ulm’s, Vegan Yum Yum cookbook.  Pages 91-93 offer us Collard Dolmas & Cranberry Tahini.

I was of little faith, but I tossed caution to the wind and braved the elements.  I doubted that my trusty little veggie could rally around a fruit-flavored tahini, but I no longer doubt the magic of this glorious green.

Collard greens are either loved, or hated, for I doubt there is any middle-of-the-road for this vegetable.  We normally tend this item over a large stockpot, boiling the dickens out of it, along with some bacon and a diced-up onion.  We drink it’s bath water and sing an ode to our health for all that the elixir offers us, and generally, we don’t think twice about this bit of finery.  We take it all for granted.

I have a feeling, in some circles, that seeing a post about using it as an appetizer will be regarded as a bit hoity-toity.  So be it.  I am not one who puts on airs, but if I get riled, I can put on a show.

And so it is with my excesses.  But I digress.

Get on over to Blazing Burners for the real, low-down.

Enjoy!

Life is good…

I snooze…

I ponder….

and I give thanks.

Wordless Wednesday, 02.02.2011

Posole with Buttermilk Spoonbread

I be steamy

Posole

(inspired by my best friend, Silla, a New Mexico native)

1 Pork Butt Roast (mine was about 3.5 lbs.), trimmed & spiked with shards of garlic

1 1/2 cups dried hominy (prepped)

1 ( 27 oz.) can of Hatch green chili sauce + one full can of water

1 large yellow onion (diced)

4 clove garlic, thickly sliced (about 12-16 shards)

2 Tablespoon Mexican whole-leaf oregano

3 Tablespoons New Mexico chili pepper, ground

Kosher salt to taste (I used about 2 Tablespoons)

Pepper to taste (I used about 1 1/2 Tablespoons)

a handful or so of flour  (for coating meat)

3-4 Tablespoons olive oil for braising meat and onions

…..

Soak dried hominy in lightly salted water, overnight.  Drain and set aside.

Trim excess fat from roast.   Stab roast at intervals (about an inch apart) and fill holes with shards of garlic, being sure to fully submerge the rascals.  Season the flour, lightly, with salt and pepper.  Dredge meat and braise along with the onion in olive oil.  Add green chili sauce, water, hominy, Mexico oregano, New Mexico red chili pepper, salt and black pepper. Set on low heat, or within a crock pot and cook…..all…..day…..long.

…..

An hour before mealtime, get yourself back into the kitchen.  (You just thought you were done, didn’t you, Bertha?  Come on now, fess up;  I know you better than that!)

…..

Disclaimer: For some unknown reason, I am unable to use the link insert through my blog. I apologize for any inconvenience and ask that you bear with me until the issue can be resolved.  I’m giving credit due and would hope that it is recognized.  Please copy and paste the provided url(s) into your browser for reference.  Thanks so much for your patience!

…..

Buttermilk Spoonbread

(inspired by Michael Natkin)

http://www.herbivoracious.com/2010/12/buttermilk-spoonbread-individual-corn-puddings-recipe.html

This is my adaptation

Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees, if using metal bakeware, for glass ramekins, prep oven to 350 degrees.

• 4 Tablespoons melted butter
• 1 Tablespoon honey
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 2 Tablespoons finely minced, fresh parsley
• 1 cup polenta, or 1 cup coarsely ground cornmeal
• 4 eggs (room-temp)
• 1 1/3 cups buttermilk (room-temp)
• 1 1/3 cup very hot water
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 Tablespoon baking powder
• 1/4 cup asadero and manchego cheese
• 1 cup frozen corn kernels (no need to thaw)

…..

Fill a roasting pan with one inch of hot water.  Place item into preheated oven, or better yet, and for safety’s sake, just put that empty roasting pan into the oven, grab hot water from the tap, fill the roaster to the required depth, turn the oven on and get to the counter for some shake-and-bake, southern-style.

Whip the eggs until light and fluffy, add buttermilk and whisk until blended.  Combine 1 1/2 cups boiling water along with polenta, salt, pepper, garlic, parsley, melted butter, honey, cheese and the frozen corn.  Add baking powder and stir in the egg and buttermilk mix. Batter will be quite wet, actually, it will be very runny.  Don’t panic!  Using a ladle, scoop mixture into greased ramekins (I had five ramekins and one small baking dish, all glassware).   Bake for 25 minutes, or until lightly browned.

…..

After dinner, go shovel that snow and ice.  Fold the laundry, run the vacuum and ‘pretend’ that you’ve been hard-at-work, the whole live-long-day.  Cuz, seriously, you have been if you live to the north and east of me.

…..

(Silla, I’m thinking of you. I hope you are safe and warm.)

Whole Wheat Applesauce Muffins

This item was inspired by Mark Bittman’s recipe for whole wheat muffins.  I’ve added freshly ground nut meal, apple jelly and a few spices.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees

• 2 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour (KA)
• 3/4 cup granulated sugar
• 2 Tablespoons apple jelly (melted and cooled to lukewarm)
• 1 cup unsweetened applesauce
• 1/3 cup coarsely ground nut meal (walnut, almond, brazil nut)
• 1/4 cup currants
• 2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon allspice
• 1/4 teaspoon clove
• 1 egg (room-temp)
• 1/2 cup buttermilk (room-temp)
• 1 stick unsalted butter (room-temp)

Beat butter and sugar at medium speed for five minutes.  Add egg and continue to beat only until blended.  Stir in melted apple jelly and buttermilk.  Mix thoroughly.

Sift together dry ingredients, add nut meal and currants to coat.

Carefully fold in wet and dry ingredients, folding, not mixing.

Fill muffin cups 3/4′s the way, full, and bake for approximately 22-25 minutes in an oven that has been preheated to 375 degrees.  Do not over bake.

*Disclaimer:  I’ve had trouble linking directly to Mark Bittman’s recipe.  To view it, please copy and paste the following link into your browser:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/10/dining/101mrex.html

Dinner at the diner

Week #3, and M1′s week for a recipe choice.

She chose, Vegetable Cobbler!

Our family loved it so much that it will become a permanent member of my handwritten recipe file (yes, I do still hand-write my ‘saves’).

I had my item prepped, cooked, baked and eaten, before M1 had a chance to blaze the burners of her own kitchen.

Living two thousand miles apart will do that to you.  But in fairness to M1, she’s been out-of-town on business this past week, and her grocery store is one town removed from where she resides.  As I type this, I’m pretty sure she’s putting the finishing touches on her own masterpiece.  Maybe, if I travel at warp speed, I can sit at her and J’s table and have a redux, part two.

I would so love to do that.

Disclaimer:  We do not publish our recipes.  If you’d like to follow our shenanigans in greater detail, please visit us at www.BlazingBurners.wordpress.com

Wordless Wednesday, 01.26.2011

Sunday dinners

Disclaimer* We will not be giving the recipe for the following item.  My daughter and I wish to simply acknowledge that we were inspired by this book.  Our renditions may vary from the written copy, but we will not be publishing them here.  These posts are simply meant to document our families journey as we enjoy our Sunday dinners.

Enjoy!

M1 and I have begun a new family tradition and we’re hoping that M2 will join us on our foray when she settles into a domesticated life, should she choose one. For now, we excuse her, college and friends are her number one priority.  Besides, I know she’ll visit her second home when she can, and dine upon the Sunday dinner here.

This is our second week, venturing again into the, Vegan Yum Yum, cookbook from Lauren Ulm; today’s dish, Broccoli Almond Sweet-and-Sour Tofu.  If you’d like to venture over to Blazing Burners.com, you can find us dishing it out.

I think we’re both winners.  M1′s china is nicer, and so is her camera, but she allows me to puff-myself-up with my trusty point-and-shoot, plastic drink-cups, and the occasional authentic dinner plate.

We hope to post something each Sunday, but as you’ll soon discover, we may, or may not meet our own deadlines.  I’d like to think we allow room for being human.  Please feel free to find a recipe and duplicate the experience with your family.  It’s a nice way to bond.

As a mom, I’m so grateful my daughters have found a way to carve out time for Sunday dinners.  With one daughter almost two thousand miles away, and the other at 38 minutes+college+life+friends, I feel blessed.

My nest no longer feels so empty.

:)

Drunkened Fruit (Boozed-up Mincemeat)

I could claim it as an accident, you know, one of those pleasant discoveries that lands in your lap when you are expecting the very worst out of a situation.

This is exactly what happened to me in the  aftermath of, post-Holiday Bake, 2009.  I was doing an inventory when I came upon the remnants of my annual fruitcake baking bonanza. Not one to waste anything, and certainly not a food item, I set my sights on making a fruitcake for Easter.  Dumping the dregs of the rum and brandy into the remaining fruit, I set about to create a burst of flavor for my unorthodox Easter feast. Sealing the jar tight and placing it into the recesses of the cabinet, I set forth on a mission untold.  (My oldest sister and I are avid fans of fruitcake.  I don’t think the other four siblings care to even discuss its existence.  But hence, I digress…..)

Easter came, as did many other festive occasions.  From time to time I would stumble upon that jar in the back of the cabinet and simply remind myself….One of these days I must get going on a cake. Several months passed, and just like the nagging of mama with the chores for her adolescents, I would fret myself over my own procrastinations.

I awoke from my slumber as, Holiday Bake, 2010, unfolded.  Like many of you, I hold an annual marathon in my kitchen.  All sorts of mischief unfolds:  I bake one or two of the local winning recipes from one or two of the local newspapers.  I drag out my old favorites of years gone by and close the family kitchen for days on end.  Literally, this is one of the few times of the year where you can hear me announce, “What are we having for dinner?”  My family is trained well, they know this means that they must beckon to the call of finding a dining option.  I’m always a good sport.  I travel with them when it is feed time.  I draw a line though, nothing fast;  I need pampering, no hustle, no bustle; I need downtime.

I had plans, by Christmas, to make some lemon, grapefruit, orange and ginger slices, but none of those items ever happened.  As a matter of fact, the fruitcake didn’t happen.   We enjoyed fruitcake cookies, baked into muffin-cakes.

Forget the cheesecloth, the sister in southern Colorado (although I would NEVER forget this precious soul).  Neither of these took precedent over this years marathon.  Sure, I intended to send my sis a bunch of goodies, but we found ourselves robbed of entitlements when the food theft occurred.  Somehow we awoke one morning to find that the little mincemeat cakes had vanished, and with them, the memory of the exact amounts used in their creation.

Some of you may question why I would still be posting items generally tagged for the holidays.  Hey, what can I tell you, “Stuff happens?”…..”I’m indulgent?”…..  …..

None, or all of the above.  I’m simply making notes.  I’m at that stage of life where jotting down items takes on a whole new meaning, ;)  When I was younger I thought lists were unnecessary, now I see them as building blocks.

No, it is not a bad thing to be getting up there, wherever there, is.  I look at it this way.

Some folks run cross-country marathons, covering 26.2 miles on their journey.  How in the heck they manage (M1), I’ll NEVER understand.  But I have my own little race event. I dash back and forth between oven and counter, amassing untold yardage along the way.  If I do my journey just right, there’s a line of bread crumbs (cookie, muffin, etc.) leading to that list of items I’d like to remember.

Enjoy life!  Take notes, take pictures, but most of all, take time.  Time for friends, for family and for those things that cause a smile to frame your face.

Banana Oat & Wheat Germ Muffins

Don’t trash those over-ripe banana’s, grab that canister of oatmeal and make yourself a treat. ‘Tis easy, I promise.

I adapted this recipe from one found in a special little hamlet known as, www.AllRecipes.com that was submitted for a Banana Oat Muffin.

Trust me on these. No one will ever know those dark and frumpy-looking bananas were rejects of yesterday and the day before. They now have a place in your tummy. And, they’re yummy, to boot!

Banana Oatmeal/Wheat Germ

Muffins

Preheat oven to 400 degrees

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 cups oatmeal (I used a ‘quick’ version)
• 1/4 cup wheat germ flakes (Bob’s Red Mill)
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• 1 Tablespoon baking powder
• 1 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 2 eggs (room-temp)
• 1 1/2 cups milk (I used low-fat, at room-temp)
• 1/2 cup butter (room-temp)
• 3/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 cup mashed bananas

Line two, 12-count muffin tins with muffin liners or spray with cooking spray.

Beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs and vanilla stirring in only until blended.

Sift flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, together in a separate bowl.  Add wheat germ, oatmeal and grated nutmeg to this bowl and stir thoroughly.

Pour milk and vanilla together and set aside.

Mash bananas together, fully.  (I used my mini-food processor and pulsed them into a very blended purée.)

…..

Stir milk mixture into blended butter, sugar, egg and vanilla mixture until just combine. Add half of the sifted flour ingredients and half of the banana’s.  Blend, and then add remaining flour and banana’s. DO NOT OVERBEAT this mixture.

Fill muffin cups 2/3 full and bake at 400 degrees for 13 to 15 minutes, or until lightly browned on tops.

*I baked half of mine in a Texas-sized muffin tin for 18 minutes.

*Adapted from Karen Resciniti’s recipe for Banana Oat Muffins: www.allrecipes.com

 

 

‘Eggnog hang-over’, part II

I promised to return with a photo of the lovely little miss that made my Christmas extra bright.

This eggnog cupcake has the most amazing flavor.  It is the hallmark by which other seasonal bakes will be measured.  I really am so amazed with the blending of flavors. There’s the obvious rum and eggnog hints, but the flavor of the yogurt strikes too!

Here’s the recipe.  (Remember, this was my initial bake from the earlier post, but not the one that successfully departed it’s baking pan.  These particular Texas-sized muffins have been waiting impatiently in my freezer.  Today, I set them free.)

Rum-infused Cream Cheese Icing

• 8 ounces Neufchatel Cheese ( a block of cream cheese or some mascarpone would do nicely, too)
• 1 stick of unsalted butter, room-temp
• 1 teaspoon Madagascar Bourbon vanilla
• 2 to 3 Tablespoon golden rum  (I used Bacardi)
• 4 1/2 to 5 cups of sifted confectioners sugar

Beat cream and butter in mixer on high-speed until fully blended.   Slowly add the vanilla and Bacardi rum, along with one half of the confectioners sugar.  Stir together until mixture is combined. Stop mixer and add the remaining confectioners sugar. Resume on low speed and work to the highest mixer setting to fully incorporate and blend.  Whip until light and fluffy.  Add additional confectioners sugar to stiffen, if necessary, for your personal decorating needs.

…..

Cherry eggnog bundt cake

Preheat oven to 325 degrees

Inspired by the lovely gem by the same name:  Cherry Eggnog Bundt Cake, http://www.epicurious.com , this recipe veers a bit with the use of low-fat yogurt sans sour cream and a can of Lucky Leaf premium cherry pie filling rather than the dark canned cherries requested in the original version.  Also, I used a dark rum, Bacardi, but the original recipe notes offer the use or kirsch or another favored brandy.  Either way you do this, do it right.  Use liquor.  I highly recommend it. The dark rum added a nuance that could not have been rendered by the addition of a rum flavoring.

• 1 cup softened butter, unsalted
• 1 cup non-fat yogurt, room-temp
• 2 cups granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs, room-temp
• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 3 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 1/2 cups good quality eggnog
• 1/4 cup dark rum (Bacardi was my offering)
• 1 cup Lucky Leaf premium cherry pie filling

Whip butter and sugar together for two to three minutes, add yogurt and continue beating until light and fluffy.  About two additional minutes, give or take.  Add eggs, one at a time, beating only until combined.  Sift together all dry ingredients.  Set aside.   Mix rum and eggnog together.  Add sifted dry ingredients, and eggnog, in increments of three, to the blended sugar/butter/yogurt batter.  Do not overbeat, but to take care to fully incorporate batter, checking to ensure that no ingredients are left at the base of the mixing bowl.

Grease and flour a large bundt pan, or one small bundt pan and six cowboy-sized muffin cups (a regular sized muffin tin, yielding 12 muffins, can be substituted for the cowboy size).

Fill baking pans 1/2 full of batter.  Spoon cherry filling into the center of the pan(s), avoiding any contact with the center or edges of the baking receptacle.  (I opted to use the full can of cherry pie filling for the batter contents of this recipe.  I regret this move, it is the reason my item would not evacuate the bundt pan.  A large bit of the baking center settled toward the bottom of my pan, when I flipped it to center the cake on the plate, the top stayed glued to the interior of the pan.)

Bake regular size bundt pan for 90 minutes at 325 degrees.  My smaller bundt pan was ready at 55 minutes, and my cowboy-sized muffins were ready at 27 minutes.  Bake according to pan size and check to insure even baking.

The original post can be seen here: http://coffeegrounded.wordpress.com/2011/01/08/eggnog-hang-over/

Blazing Burners!

Only a mother and her broodies can create this kind of mayhem:   www.blazingburners.wordpress.com

Join me on Sunday when my daughter, M1, and I start our journey through a vegan cookbook. With luck, maybe I can get daughter, M2, to join us. ;)

Fuzzy photo’s

The Apprentice (aka, Gilbert Grape) continues his journey.

This boy is one long drink of water.  I’m pretty sure his gene pool has a rag-doll and a munchkin dancing in it.   One of his cousins was obviously a Maine coon, too.   Whatever the sum of all his parts is, he’s definitely a keeper.

If you’ve followed my blog in the past, you’ve noted the departure of two other tuxedo’s, Ace-Ventura Pet Purrfect, and Sylvester ‘Whippie-Nippy’.  Those two left for the Rainbow Bridge, but not before impacting our families lives to the fullest.

I have a thing for tuxedo’s.   It’s true.  But I also have a thing for a certain tabby, Bridget-Renee.

Eggnog hang-over

Okay, I confess.  I’m not inebriated or suffering from a liquor-infused altered state.  It’s just that after hanging the new wall calendar, and with the onset of a spring cleaning frenzy that’s about to set foot, I felt it was about time I tossed the remnants of all things, Christmas, from the inside of Miss G.E.  The list of items, tossed, is much too embarrassing for me to publicly admit, so I’m only going to admit to eggnog, as that last cowboy standing.

While some may not care for this item as a beverage, it does have its advantages in baking.  Namely, you can toss it into just about anything from a bread pudding/custard to a baked bread.  I opted for a cupcake.  Actually, I opted for a bundt cake and a fist full of cupcakes.  Two different recipes, both enticing and inviting in their own rite.  I failed to take pics of my first round of baking, but just as well.  That cake-wreck was nothing short of a heartbreaker, and especially since the baked item it yielded was by far the most spectacular item that I baked this season.  The cherry-centered, rum-drunken cake refused to jump freely from its baking space inside the bundt pan, never-the-less, I forgave the item its waywardness as I hid myself in the corner of my kitchen, spooning the broken mass into an over-sized custard cup.  I had every intention of serving it as a ‘pudding-cup’ for our family dessert.  That was until I told myself:

“Self, taste a bit of this and see if it is even worth saving.”

I thought I was awaiting a reply, when suddenly I awoke from a drunken stupor, realizing all too soon that the contents of the custard cup had been stolen!

…..

Oh well.  Enough said.  Surely bake number two would yield something as exquisite, but that would have to wait for another day.  I must allow the fog to clear and the vapors to recede.

….

Trial Number Two….fret not, I’ll post the cake-wreck before I close the post.  If you have eggnog in the fridge, and rum in the cupboard, go with that version rather than this one…but then bake these too.  You are deserving of both, especially after careening past St. Nick and headlong into the excitement of this Happy New Year!

Eggnog Cupcakes

original recipe can be viewed at: http://bakeanddestroy.net/2010/12/eggnog-cupcakes/

Preheat oven to 325 degrees

• 1 3/4 cups cake flour
• 1 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
• 2 cups sugar
• 1 Tablespoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
• 4 large eggs
• 1 cup eggnog
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

…..

Line two cupcake pans with liners, or spray with cooking spray.  Set aside.  Cream room-temp butter, and sugar, for five minutes or until batter is fluffy and light.  Gradually add in eggs, one at a time, blend, but do not overly mix.  Stir in vanilla.  Add sifted dry ingredients in increments of three, alternating with the cup of eggnog.  Fill baking cups 2/3 full and bake for approximately 17 to 22 minutes, or until golden brown.  Test cupcake tops for spring-back, careful not to overbake.  Cool cupcake for five minutes before removing them to a wire rack for additional cooling.

…..

Bakeanddestroy offers an eggnog frosting for her cupcake, but I opted for a rum-infused, cream cheese frosting.  I made this lovely up as I stood swirling golden rum from a decanter.  (Okay, I’m taking liberties here.  I wasn’t really drinking from a decanter.  I was just playing with you.  ;)

…..

Rum-infused Cream Cheese Icing

• 8 ounces Neufchatel Cheese ( a block of cream cheese or some mascarpone would do nicely, too)
• 1 stick of unsalted butter, room-temp
• 1 teaspoon Madagascar Bourbon vanilla
• 2 to 3 Tablespoon golden rum  (I used Bacardi)
• 4 1/2 to 5 cups of sifted confectioners sugar

Beat cream and butter in mixer on high-speed until fully blended.   Slowly add the vanilla and Bacardi rum, along with one half of the confectioners sugar.  Stir together until mixture is combined. Stop mixer and add the remaining confectioners sugar. Resume on low speed and work to the highest mixer setting to fully incorporate and blend.  Whip until light and fluffy.  Add additional confectioners sugar to stiffen, if necessary, for your personal decorating needs.

…..

Cherry eggnog bundt cake

Preheat oven to 325 degrees

Inspired by the lovely gem by the same name:  Cherry Eggnog Bundt Cake, http://www.epicurious.com , this recipe veers a bit with the use of low-fat yogurt sans sour cream and a can of Lucky Leaf premium cherry pie filling rather than the dark canned cherries requested in the original version.  Also, I used a dark rum, Bacardi, but the original recipe notes offer the use or kirsch or another favored brandy.  Either way you do this, do it right.  Use liquor.  I highly recommend it. The dark rum added a nuance that could not have been rendered by the addition of a rum flavoring.

• 1 cup softened butter, unsalted
• 1 cup non-fat yogurt, room-temp
• 2 cups granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs, room-temp
• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 3 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 1/2 cups good quality eggnog
• 1/4 cup dark rum (Bacardi was my offering)
• 1 cup Lucky Leaf premium cherry pie filling

Whip butter and sugar together for two to three minutes, add yogurt and continue beating until light and fluffy.  About two additional minutes, give or take.  Add eggs, one at a time, beating only until combined.  Sift together all dry ingredients.  Set aside.   Mix rum and eggnog together.  Add sifted dry ingredients, and eggnog, in increments of three, to the blended sugar/butter/yogurt batter.  Do not overbeat, but to take care to fully incorporate batter, checking to ensure that no ingredients are left at the base of the mixing bowl.

Grease and flour a large bundt pan, or one small bundt pan and six cowboy-sized muffin cups (a regular sized muffin tin, yielding 12 muffins, can be substituted for the cowboy size).

Fill baking pans 1/2 full of batter.  Spoon cherry filling into the center of the pan(s), avoiding any contact with the center or edges of the baking receptacle.  (I opted to use the full can of cherry pie filling for the batter contents of this recipe.  I regret this move, it is the reason my item would not evacuate the bundt pan.  A large bit of the baking center settled toward the bottom of my pan, when I flipped it to center the cake on the plate, the top stayed glued to the interior of the pan.)

Bake regular size bundt pan for 90 minutes at 325 degrees.  My smaller bundt pan was ready at 55 minutes, and my cowboy-sized muffins were ready at 27 minutes.  Bake according to pan size and check to insure even baking.

…..

(If I think to do it, I will remove a cowboy-sized cupcake from the freezer, cut it in half, and come back to this with another photo op.  If I forget, or rather, if the fumes and the flavor send me into another stupor, forgive me.  I know not what I do…..hiccup!)

;)

Smell-O-Vision

Thank you, Jacob & Megan.

My heart sings.

Love,

Mom #1/#2

I’m a low-down

cheat.

Once again I’ve been caught stealing candy from a baby.  Okay, it wasn’t candy, it was a photo, but how could I resist?  But, how could ANYONE resist?  Besides, I was stealing from one of my very own: my daughter and son-in-law.

Miss Zulu

(I hope Mr. J. needs to travel to Egypt again, and I hope M1 needs to intern on the coast….That’s how I fetched my Hannah.)

;)

 

Chocolate Heaven…in a bread

aka…..

Chocolate Nutella Bread

…..

Heaven help me.  Twice in one week I have found myself reading the newspaper and both times I’ve been arrested by the news of some sort of recipe exchange.  I’m not worth two cents these days.  My mind is on sugar plums, the kind one dreams of when the havoc of mayhem streams most active. I’m like the rest of you, too tired to budge and too busy to know better.  Wrapping paper and ribbons wrestle my existence. Christmas is hurling toward me and I’m not sure which direction I should run.  If I don’t make haste, I’m in due trouble, but in the meantime let’s just pretend everything is on track. Besides, at this point, does anyone know differently?  If you’re reading this post you are either putting off what should have been done, or you have simply taken refuge in knowing that there is no possible way you can save yourself.

I’m right along with you.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Search the pantry and larder for these items:

• 1/2 cup unsalted butter  (room temp)
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 eggs (room temp)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon sea salt
• 1 cup (8 ounces) sour cream (original recipe calls for this or crème fraîche)
• 1/2 cup Nutella
• 1/3 cup miniature chocolate chips
• 1/3 cup toasted hazelnuts (if you so desire…these were missing in action in my pantry)

I opted to bake a small loaf pan and six large nut-cup sized mini cakes (breads) from this recipe, but the original tells us that we can bake one 9 inch by 5 inch loaf.

…..

In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  Add eggs, one at a time, beating only until blended. Add vanilla.  Mix.

…..

In a separate bowl, sift together:  flour, cocoa, baking powder and salt.

…..

Yet in another bowl, smaller, blend together sour cream and Nutella, fully.

…..

Get yet another bowl (the more dishes the merrier, cuz we don’t have anything else to do, but the danged dishes!) stir together those toasted nuts and chocolate chips.  Set aside

…..

FINALLY, Add flour mixture to butter and sugar mixture, alternating with the sour cream and Nutella mixture, but go gently into the night on this item, don’t beat the Dickens out of it! Now, fill each container one-third of the way full, top with a layer of nuts and chocolate chips and then add an additional one-third bit of dough to each loaf, nut cup, muffin cup.  Tap items on counter, once filled, to release trapped air bubbles.

Bake muffin or nut cups for 18 to 20 minutes each, and smaller loaf pan(s) for 40 to 42 minutes.  If baking one large loaf, bake for approximately one hour.

Disclaimer:

Original recipe comes from The Fort Worth Star Telegram. (http://www.star-telegram.com/).  When I went to research for the original recipe in archives I was unable to locate it, but since this is the local paper I read on December 15th, 2010, I want to give credit, where credit is due.  (I’m guilty of scribbling my ‘must-saves’ onto 4 X 6 recipe cards, and compiling them when I have that thing called, spare-time…but who am I kidding?  I was just taking a break from mayhem when I baked this lil-bit-o-HEAVEN!).

i

Mac…..

ATTACK!

I’ll never be the same

I can’t imagine life without

a

FREEZE!

a

VIRUS!

or

HEADACHE!

I’ve heard it said, ‘an Apple a day, keeps the doctor away.’

…..

http://pd.dfw.com/sp?aff=1100&keywords=very+merry+holiday+cookie+recipes&submit=Search

Okay, how about a recipe, you say.  Well, I can certainly offer you up one.  I just happened to sit down and read the paper one day this week, and lo and behold there was this item that feasted itself upon me.  No, not with the black and white newsprint, less-than-stellar photo, but the tingling of senses one gets when they read a list of ingredients.

Yeah, this item is a winner, and in more ways than one.  I baked these beauties, shared them and promised myself to revisit them during this busy holiday season.  These little jumpers will do a dirty on you if you let them.  I’m sure they are loaded with the ‘x’ amount of calories, but for the sake of holiday enticements let’s just make a deal: You don’t talk about calories AND I won’t either.

Sound good?

Yeah, times two!  I knew you’d agree with me.

First place winner, The Fort Worth Star Telegram 2010 Holiday baking contest, submitted by Tamara Reese of Fort Worth, Texas.  She has one doozie of an item.  Bake them, or go off to the corner and cry for what you’ve missed.  We’ll deal with you later.

…..

Fire up that oven, place that beauty on a preheat of 350 degrees, farenheit

…..

T’s Toffee Temptations

(an adaptation by CoffeeGrounded)

• 3/4 cup butter-flavored Crisco (I ain’t got this item, so I cheated and used another round of unsalted butter)
• 3/4 cup unsalted butter
• 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
• 1 1/2 cups of dark brown sugar (again, I cheated.  I used light brown)
• 3 large eggs (I like mine room-temp when I bake)
• 1 Tablespoon Mexican vanilla (and now I have ‘cheated’ tres times.  I only keep Madagascar Bourbon at mi casa)
• 3 cups all-purpose flour  (KA has my heart!)
• 1 Tablespoon baking powder
• 1 Tablespoon baking soda
• 1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon (Vietnamese, please!  Again, it’s a CoffeeGrounded thing….)
• 1 teaspoon salt (‘yada, yada yada’…let’s do sea or Kosher, please)
• 3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats (Quaker, cuz dat wuz what I haz)
• 2 cups semisweet chocolate (try to keep from eating half the bag before the mix-in, okay?)
• 1 (8 ounce bag Heath English Toffee Bits) …again, WE NEED THE FULL BAG, okay, Coffee?
• 1 1/2 cups coarsely chopped pecans, toasted (naw part’ner, you ain’t missin nuttin…. I left ‘em out of yer package when I mailed it, well, cuz some folks just ain’t nuts for NUTS ;)

Grab the biggest bowl you have in your house.  Don’t fret if you can’t find it. REMEMBER, it may be hiding in the man-cave, along with the discards of Monday nights football popcorn feast.  Don’t bother with the beer cans while you are on your hunt. Simply write that item on the ‘Honey-Do-It-Now-Or-Else’ list.

Wash it, please!   You’ll be sharing these cookies.  My address follows.

Thanks!

Toss that butter (and the Crisco, if you was being true to Tamara, and  yes, I know it is three cups of fat, but we’re friends, remember?) into your mixer and beat it up for a few.    Like 2 or 3 minutes.  Get it all nice and fluffy-like.  Dump all 3 cups of that combined sugar in there now and let that machine dance for another 2 or 3 minutes.  No, that speed thing ain’t all that important to me.  I like to travel at mid-range, myself.  I don’t care much for repainting the ceiling, much less, sudsing up and rinsing the floorboards.

Got them eggs ready?  Toss one in at a time, blend ‘er up each time, but don’t beat the daylights out of these babies.  We’ve spent all our time making that lovely emulsion and we don’t want to deflate it none.

Grab the vanilla bottle, place a drop behind each ear and then remember to add one tablespoon atop the egg, butter, Crisco and sugar match-up.  Mix in gently. ( Always respect vanilla.  She’s cheaper than that pricey item from Neiman’s)

Did you act like a big person and sift them dry ingredients beforehand?

Good for you.  But if you were busy picking up those beer cans I told you to leave alone, well, now is the time to get your act together.

Combine flour and oatmeal, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and salt, into a SEPARATE bowl.  Mix-er up a bit.  You know, ‘rub the sands of time’ with it, and then waltz on over to that mixing bowl.  Stir that stuff into the butter mixture.  It’s a fifty-dollar bet that you have removed the whisk attachment by now, having fully realized that there ain’t no civilized way to get all this stuff mixed-in properly without tossing your hands into the bowl. Quick!  Ain’t no one looking, but me.  I’ve got your back!

Okay, where are the remains of the day?  The chocolate chips and those toffee bits?

WHAT?  You ate them and drank the dregs of Monday-Nite football beer!  How could you?

For shame, for shame.

Okay, you iz human.  You ARE forgiven, but in the meantime, grab whats left of that free-for-all and let’s get down to the final bits of business.

Toss ‘em in.  Mix ‘em up, but don’t go heavy-handed.  We still want air bubbles in our batter. ( It does something to the chemistry of this whole mayhem.  We want a chewy cookie, but we ain’t lookin to put new soles on our Keds.)

Go ahead and burp…

(You are excused.)

…..

Where are those cookie sheets?  Parchment?  The can of Crisco?  Pam?  …oh, my apologies.  I didn’t know that was the neighbors dogs name.

You gots one of dem large dishers?  No?  No problem.  Grab a teaspoon and start making hay!  or rather…golf balls.  Yeah, de iz pretty nice size, eh?

….Yeah, the more dough you gots, the more cookie you eats :)

Bake these beauties till the cows come home.  My Jersey’s were home the minute they smelled the Toll-House ‘effect’.

Okay, for you that are taking a timed test, let’s just ear-ball (eye-ball) it at 12 to 15 minutes, but since you have very little reason to trust me when I don’t have a pic to prove my point, you’ll have to stand by the oven window and just watch the scenery.

It be fine, don’t it?

Smell that aroma?

Cinnamon kisses chocolate and butter rules the day!

…..

GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF MY COOKIE!!!!!!

;)

*No pic, no proof, but I bet I’ve driven you to madness simply by my lack of good grammar and punctuation.  If you’re like a few of my so-called friends, you’ll simply have to prove me wrong.

Go ahead, I’m game.  And so is Tamara and half of Fort Worth.

;)

 

*****

Disclaimer:  I am not able to archive the link that shows the specific date the cookie recipe was posted.  The above link will reference the newspaper story.

Please note that my recipe is NOT VERBATIM, and detours a bit.  I think you will enjoy the adaptations.

Geez, lady!

Give it up, already!!!

….You didn’t know I could read your thoughts, did you?

Well I can,  and therefore I’m about to take action.

The next time you see me I’ll be wearing some clothes.

GOTCHA!  ;) 

No, seriously, and I do mean, S E R I O U S L Y,  I’ll be sporting a new outfit.

I may actually be wearing high heels and driving a new set of wheels.

Something in the area of RAM, as in DDR2, or three.

Heck, I’d better end on this high note before I really lose my audience.

(I’m shopping for my new system and I’m as clueless as ever, but fear not!  Anything has to work better than this set of wheels.  I’m down to the lug nuts and veering ever so close to that cliff over there.  IRT has nuttin on me ;)

P.S.  Enjoy my kitty cats tail for another go-round.  Oh, and here’s a kitty update:

Gilbert Grape is HUGE!  I’ll post evidence soon.  Hannah has met her match, and Bridget R. is threatening to leave home.  Lord help us.

:)

Happy Thanksgiving.  I hope everyone has enjoyed their day.  Grease those pans and get ready for the next marathon of marathons:

The Christmas Season bake-off!

‘Batter up!’

Oh my, I haven’t been this excited in FOREVER!

I can barely contain myself. Living in Texas one might assume that I’m a Ranger’s fan. But am I? Even I don’t know for sure.

Okay, I confess. I love baseball, but I rarely sit down to watch it. I haven’t followed a team since my brother played in the pony leagues, but once upon a time I really did cheer for the home boys. Allow me to fast forward, several years, and I now find myself as mother-in-law to a young man who hails from northern California. He’s a Giant’s fan. Obviously.

My daughter, a Ranger’s fan?

Is it a house, divided?

hehehehe……

So, excuse me while I go and cheer on both teams.

It’s the sportsman-like conduct I must exhibit for now. Besides, this stuff is just down-right, FUN!
;)

An ‘Open Door Policy’

of a different kind, written exclusively for me.  :)

Note to Hannah:

Bring food if you want your cubby back.

 

I luvs you dez much…

Whatever!

No, I really, really do! I luvs  you

very, very much. 

Here, I shows you hows much:

I bees head-over-heels, smitten!

Alls the ways from my chinny-

chin-chin, to the tips of my tippy-

tip, toes….er, paws.

 

Okay, little fella.  I gots the

picture(s). 

YAWN……………..

Fake-Out Cupcakes!

Gulp!

These little babies are so moist and delightful, and just in time for the arrival of fall. 

A pumpkin cupcake that does a good job of passing itself off as a carrot cupcake.  Sure, you say, trust me,  it’s true!  I didn’t deliberately set about to create this  ‘fake-out’, even though the initial pass-thru of the original recipe, with its reviews,  hinted that these little beauties could pass themselves off as something different.  I simply had a hankering for something spicy, and with the drop of temps from the 100′s, into the 90′s, it simply felt like fall might be about to spring itself upon my doorstep.  (Who am I kidding?  I live in Texas.  My brain has been burnt by the sun and the only orange color I’ve seen all summer found its way via the smog alert set at LEVEL ORANGE.)

And so it was that I found myself dragging the forty-seven items from the cabinet, and fridge, to bring these lovelies to fruition.  Okay, that was a major exaggeration, make that something along the lines of (?).

Did I lose you?  Are you afraid of the prep and clean-up?  Surely you aren’t afraid of commitment.

Are you?

Okay, maybe you are, so you’re excused, but to those of you that are still reading, take a quick break and grab yourselves a cup of joe.  I’ll be right back with that recipe after this commercial break:

FAKE-OUT HOUSEKEEPER!

aka,  The Apprentice

We return to our regular scheduled programming

an adaptation of a Martha Stewart original .. http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/pumpkin-cupcakes )

Pumpkin Cupcakes

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.  Line two cupcake pans and prep a small loaf pan for remaining batter.  (Bake time for cupcakes:  20 minutes, small loaf pan, 20 to 22 minutes, but check from time to time.  Bake times can vary depending upon whether you use paper, tin or ceramic bakeware.)

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 2 teaspoons Vietnamese cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
• 1/4 teaspoon allspice
• 1 cup light brown sugar
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 1 cup unsalted butter (room temp)
• 4 large eggs (room temp)
• 1 can (15 ounces) pumpkin puree
• 1/3 cup mini cinnamon chips (I get mine from King Arthur Flour)

Sift: flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, spices.  Set aside.  In mixer, beat butter for two minutes, add brown sugar and beat for one minute.  Now add granulated sugar and continue beating for two minutes.  (Total mix time:  5 minutes).  Add eggs, one at a time, blending fully after each addition.  Add pumpkin puree in thirds, blending well.  Next, add the sifted dry ingredients in increments of three, being careful not to overbeat the batter (we want to keep these beauties light and airy).  Finally, fold in your cinnamon chips.   

Cream Cheese Frosting

• Fresh heavy cream (use amt. to thin according to use)
• 1/4 cup unsalted butter (room temp)
• 1 (8 ounce) package Neuchâtel cheese (room temp)
• 2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste
• 1 3/4 lbs. confectioners sugar (about 7 cups)
• Angel-flake style coconut
• cocoa nibs

Cream butter and cream cheese until light and fluffy, a minute or two.  Incorporate vanilla bean paste and begin adding confectioners sugar, beating to consistency for decorating.  (This is where I began to add a bit of cream, perhaps two tablespoons?  I knew that I was going to use a decorator tip, and also, that these would be stored in the refrigerator for a full day before being served.)

Happy Bakes 2U

What does it take

to get you to move from MY home?

I like it here.  It’s cushioned and this quilt print brings out the beauty of my eyes.

 

Oh, and don’t you think these architectural features do wonders for my most striking of features…my nose? 

 

…..

How did I get here? 

The ‘dangerous’ visit to Home Depot

Our intentions were good

We invited Hannah, the lab, to travel with us on our excursion to find the perfect orbital sander.  We’re in the midst of home-improvement exercises; confident by good intention, if nothing else, and so it is that we found ourselves in the land of all things, orange.  Things were going according to plan until the checkout experience and the heated exchanges between hubby and  Ms. Self Check dOUbT.  Embarrassed, Hannah and I left dad to discover and recover the vehicle upon his exit.

We dodged the bewildered look of sales associates and the presumed call to 911 for emergency help aide for the computerized check-out chick.  I promised Hannah a safe reprieve at the store next door, PetsMart. 

She was most happy to accommodate and lead me to safety, helping to throw open the door as we made a bee-line to our friends over in the doggie play yard.

 We pretended to greet each other with big wet sniffs pressed through glass panes. It is pure joy to be loved by the masses.  Pure, sweet, joy. 

But time pressed us forward, for now we were heralded by the less-than-jovial, stressed patron that we had accompanied through Home Depot.  Let’s see what mischief we can harangue in, The Land of Fur and Coat, with this true leader-of-the-pack.  Or better yet, let’s soothe his soul with a bit of whimsy from all things, feline. 

Oh no,  look, there!  What have we here, a tuxedo?  Small, too tired to budge, no matter how many taps at his window; he refuses to be roused.  We can’t have this.  It’s time for action.  Time to see what this is all about.

He wore a cast for a month, healing from a broken leg.  WHAT?  He’s loving.  He’s only $150.00, but his true value is in the millions!  Yes, he’s expensive, but he’s worth it.  It says so, and this is when I knew I’d hit the jackpot.

Where is an associate?  I MUST see this cat, NOW.  I search, search and finally find someone .. who can go and find someone else .. who just might have a key .. and who just might let me see .. HIM.

I’m chewing my gum like ninety, pacing the floor and all the while talking to that angry sales patron I room with.  “What am I doing asking about this cat?”  “Why am I in here?”  “What is it that made me do this, and do it today?”

Finally someone appears to tell me that the adoption folks have receded for the day, but they’ll be back tomorrow and if I’m truly interested I can take one of their cards.  Here, have one.

“Can I hold him?”

“No.  We can’t allow folks to hold cats that are up for adoption from agencies other than our own.”

“Can you hold him?   Wake him up?  Can I see him, fully?”  My words run together, I’m not sure if it was an effect of the dissected wad of chewing gum or the lack of spit in my mouth.  I was running on tense and headed toward, worried, all at the speed of sound.

I must have had a quality about me that exuded sympathy, or was it simply that this associate knew I was with that guy from next door that had flayed his arms at the computerized dummy?  I’ll never know, but thankful, I am, for within moments he was unlocking a door and opening a cubby and holding this little fella up for me to view. 

Smitten for the kitten

I ran for the car, but only after the door was locked and I profusely thanked the gentleman for caving to my pleas. 

I went home with the man from next door. 

I wrote an email at some late and heinous hour.  I got the address off of that card the PetsMart associate attempted to excuse me with earlier in the evening.  I enquired about “Three Dots”, the tuxedo.  How’d he get that broken foot…how old is he…where’s he from….? 

It was late.  Time for bed.  Something told me to check my email one last time. 

A message from “Three Dots” caregiver.  No questions answered, but simply a note telling me that she had been chided by her husband for not bringing that baby home.  How on earth could she leave him in a cubby at PetsMart and come home feeling good about herself?

Men

Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.

“Three Dot’s” was the name given to him due to the three prominent dots that he wears upon his nose.  I wanted to get a good snapshot to show you, but no worry.  He’s as fast as my gum-chewing, so I simply changed his name to, Gilbert Grape.

My daughter warned me that naming him Leonardo DiCaprio was pushing it.  Especially at my age.

Children

Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.  Another story, another day.

;)

Unphotographed, most likely unedited….

and certainly not entertaining, but whisper in your ear, I must.

I’m running into a deadline. If I don’t post now I may not find my way back into this blogosphere, or if I do, it may be under another alias. Somewhere, at sometime, I recall reading something that required my dutiful posting at least once every thirty days….or, am I just ‘memberin sumptin that ain’t actually nuttin’, who knows?  Anyway, pardon me while I post NOTHINGNESS, cuz I iz a cheat and I be fakin it big time!

I actually have hundreds of new photos and wonderous tales of family and friends visits.  There’s even one or two…or three,  new recipes, but I’m cheating. I’m leaving and not posting a darn thing, noteworthy. I simply can’t tempt fate to see if the blog monsters really eat me, caffeine and all.

I really will be back one of these days. I hope you will too.
;)

Sippin the cool stuff

For my M & M’s …..

Love,

Mom

A reason

 

to ponder…..

 

all things great and small

a time to reflect

and give thanks

for life’s greatest joys

:)

“Are we there, yet?”

Nope.  Nada. 

Do me a favor:  Pretend you are in a time warp.  Another dimension.  You’re drifting, but not yet, in ‘place’. 

I really do have a plan.  It’s rather adventurous and involves Huck and Tom.  We are journeying to places not yet discovered.  We are taking with us Miss J., and Miss M.  They have no idea of what our travels will unveil.  But I’m sure that once encountered they will no doubt enjoy themselves, immensely.

Okay.  I apologize, first for the lack of food-related photo’s, and second, for the mystery.  Truth be told, I am not that difficult to read.  Actually, my pages are wide open, as is the adventure I’m about to embark upon. 

I’ve been too danged busy to seek out and secure a new system.  Jack has arrived at the beanstalk and the ladybugs are wearing their full fashions.  With luck, I’ll be able to harvest a few ten to twelve footer’s by the middle of July.  No, not sub buns, but sunflowers. 

Obviously, I am spending my days in the garden.  I have to.  I have to do it while I can.  We leave winter to arrive at Hades.  There is very little , spring, to Texas.  I’ve been pouring copious amounts of H2O onto my tiny plot of Eden.  We are fully organic and seeking solace in the fact that the items sprouted, hardened off, and now deceased, were within our midst and glory only days, yet we enjoyed them.  But not to fret.  A neighbors weary and worn wheel-barrow of soil, has now revived itself, via the compost pile, into the loveliest of surprises!  We have, sunflowers, cucumbers and squash.  I had no idea the hi-jacked express could prove so loving and eager. 

But I digress.  What, you say, is this business about Huck and Tom?  Simply put, it is a digression back to my seventh grade English class and a choice that I made.  On an assignment, I was to choose an author and read one of his, or her works.  I fell into Sam’s lap and have never looked back.   This summer will find me sharing my love of, Mark Twain, with Miss J. and Miss M., reading aloud in hopes of tricking them into slapping paint on these old sideboards of what I call, my life.  (A bit of trickery…lol)

I’ll return to my bread baking journey through, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice,  in  late summer, or early fall.  In the meantime, keep your eyes posted for Peter Reinhart’s, pizza quest.  Hopefully he will soon announce that his filming has been picked up for national broadcast. I am crossing my fingers and toes hoping to see him return to North Texas one of these days. 

Enjoy your summer, and many Happy Bakes 2U!  If you get the notion, find one of your lost loves (er,  books) and join us on our journey.  We can white-wash our lives together. 

;)

Rest Stop

I’ve been forced to pull in and await repairs or replacement of my hard-driving CPU.  Actually, I think I’ll just chunk it and begin again, but until I do, anyone that visits me will find a bit of, ‘who knows what’?  I’m stealing photographs from my daughters and posting them as my very own while using my hubby’s system to do it. 

(Hey, it’s family.  They have to forgive me….er, tolerate me.)

My garden is coming along slowly.  Well, let me restate that:  My seedlings are coming along VERY slowly.  Those expensive plants from the  nursery are looking wonderful, though, and I can’t help but wonder at what point they’ll fail me.  I think they were fed steady diets of nuclear materials, and since this gardener has given up the commercial systems and is relying solely upon au-natural experiences, it’s going to be interesting to see how we all get along.  The grass has already given up on me, but I have a very prolific sea of weeds that I’m secretly researching in hopes of discovering that they’re edible.  (Well, not really.  Seriously, I haven’t gone that organic, as yet.)

;)

Oh, and I still bake bread, and I’m still eating it.  The proof is, in-the-pudding, as they say.  I weighed in at an extra eleven pounds just yesterday.  All the more reason for me to take a hiatus from the keyboard, the kitchen and the pollen-encased interior of this house.  If you need me, call me, I’ll be at the side of the house installing my new walkway.

Take care, and thanks for stopping by.  I’ll update you after my second hernia surgery and the purchase of my new heavy-duty hemi.

;)

Celebrating a beautiful gift

Ace Ventura Pet Purrfect

August 1, 1993-April 5, 2010

Our family extends a heartfelt thank-you to our friends that gave our daughter, Mallory, this beautiful cat.  Little did we know, at the time, what great joy would abound, nor could we have ever dared to believe to what extent he would impact our lives.  He was, and will forever be, our greatest friend.  Gone, but never forgotten, he has joined our Whippie-Nippy at the Rainbow Bridge. 

We were blessed.

Thank you for the journey, Ace.  We’ll see you on the flip-side.

Love,

Mom, Dad, Megan & Mallory

No words needed…

 

VFR

Oops!

This girl is still in a ‘holding pattern’

Navigating from the Captain’s Lounge

Plated!

And the cats

are not sure if they want to hang with her anymore.  She’s a bit fast, knows how to pick a lock and she’s a natural blonde! 

P.S.  Check back tomorrow for the low-flying aircraft.

;)

Thursday Morning Smack-Down

 Sour Cream Pineapple Muffin-Cakes

 

   with  Coconut, Pecans, and Passionfruit Jelly

                  

 

“Mom, you were wrong!  It is OKAY to play with my food.”   ;)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees

8 ounces crushed pineapple .. DO NOT Drain

2 eggs (room-temp)

8 oz. container of sour cream (room-temp)

1/2 cup unsalted butter (room-temp)

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/3 cup passionfruit jelly (room-temp)

1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

3/4 cup chopped pecans

1/2 cup unsweetened coconut

…..

Sift:  flour, salt, baking soda and baking powder.  Set aside.

Cream butter and brown sugar for five minutes on medium speed in mixer.  Add jelly and continue beating for one additional minute.  Next, add eggs, one at a time, mixing well until fully combined.  Pour in vanilla and blend well. 

Add sifted dry ingredients, into creamed mixture, mixing only until fully combined.  DO NOT OVERBEAT. 

Fold in pecans and coconut.

Fill muffin cups 2/3 full and bake for 12-15 minutes, or until tops are lightly browned and centers are set.  (Test with toothpick or cake tester).  Remove from oven and allow to cool thoroughly before glazing.

This recipe yielded 12 large muffin-tops and three singular mini-cakes:

Glaze

1 – 2 cups confectioners sugar, sifted

juice from two tangerines (oranges will work too!)

…..

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Multigrain Bread Extraordinaire

This is the sweetest of surprises.  Literally.  Brown sugar and honey, sugar-smack this bit of heaven.  Seeing is not believing, however, tasting….. now there’s the proof!

Egg-white wash, poppy seed top….I look burnt, but I ain’t.  ;)

The title just about says it all, but I must admit, before the final result appeared, I had my doubts.  It all began the evening before as I was setting about to make the required soaker.  Somehow I’d managed to ignore the fact that I needed polenta.   I would pinch-hit and end up using yellow cornmeal. 

The quest for a dignified loaf took a bit of a detour at one point.  It began when I was mixing the soaker.  I inadvertently added twice the amount of water to the danged thing!  Not to fret, I’ll just reduce my water on the final mix of ingredients.   All I have to do is go nightie-night, wake up, and remember to do just that.  Right?  Right.

Back into my kitchen mid-morning, thumbing,  The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, written by Peter Reinhart (www.PeterReinhart.typepad.com),  and here I am on pages 187-189.  Again, I’m trying to make hay with Nicole’s (www.PinchMySalt.com)  offering  for the BBA Challenge ( http://pinchmysalt.com/the-bba-challenge/).  I am living in the thick of all things, floured, this week.    This is my third loaf bake, and yes, I’m beginning to resemble a bread loaf:  round, plump and squishy in parts, but tomorrow promises lovely sunshine, and a chance to continue planting portions of the garden.   Maybe I’ll burn five calories planting those turnips.  For now, this is my offering.  Enjoy!

Buckwheat, cornmeal and brown rice are lurking:

Nuclear yeast fest, ‘er….

“Look out, Mama!  I think she’s ready to blow!”

Sunrise over Miami, ‘er, Dallas/Fort Worth:

Sideways, and proof of all things, WONDERFUL!

Have a seat; we’ll have a slice…..

A beautiful crumb was had by all…..

Again, I chose to forego the minutes of mixing suggested in Peter’s instructions, and opted, rather, to do the stretch and fold method.  This proved a bit daunting until I added a few extra tablespoons (three) of flour to the initial dough mix (this morning).  Also, I withheld my salt from the dough until it had rested for 25 minutes.  The dough was then mixed for one minute, on low, in the Kitchen Aid, turned out onto the counter and allowed a 20 minute rest before I did my first stretch and fold.  Two additional stretch and folds were done before the dough was punched down, shaped and placed in a greased ceramic loaf pan.  This rested for 75 minutes before baking in a 350 degree oven.  Completed bake time=40 minutes. 

…..

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Marbled Rye

It was time for me to try my hand at a marbled rye.  More notably and specifically, Peter Reinhart’s (www.PeterReinhart.typepad.com),  marbled rye.  Discovered in all its glory on pages 183-186,  The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. 

Again, my thanks to Nicole

 (www.pinchmysalt.com), for the BBA Challenge. 

I hadn’t  intended on baking today, but with rain falling,  once again, and a poor little cabin-fever puppy pacing at my side, that is exactly where I found myself.   It would also be the day that I would attempt my first four-stranded braid. 

That braid-thingy needs honing, but the bread dough requires nothing.  The flavor of this loaf is remarkable! 

Yes, THAT oven is still NOT clean!  ;)

I’d forgotten the egg white-wash and the sprinkling of caraway seeds before bake time.  OOPS!  Not to fret, the finished bread was packed with the bite and tang of the caraway seeds that were worked within the dough.  And, I simply used a bit of cold butter, rubbed against the cheeks of the baked product, to give it shine (see photo at top part of post).

Again, I made the choice to try the stretch-and-fold technique that I wrote about in the Light Wheat Bread (http://coffeegrounded.wordpress.com/2010/02/26/the-bread-bakers-apprentice-light-wheat-bread/ ), post.  And, although this is a firm dough, the technique can still be utilized, but it does come off more like a tug-of-war.  I wondered if it would affect the crumb or texture of the finished product, but as far as I could tell, the bread was not compromised.  How would I possibly know though, this really was my first trial of this lovely bread.  I guess I will just own up to enjoying the crumb and thus decide that next time perhaps I can offer an unbiased test result.?.   I will definitely be baking this item again, and again.  This bread is spot on-perfect for a fresh tuna-fish salad, and that’s exactly how we enjoyed it this evening.   (Also, I did a repeat of my salt addition, and this time I held off working the caraway seeds into the dough until I added that salt.)

*Slight amendments to the ingredients were as follows:

I ran out of light rye flour on the second half of the recipe and used 1.75 ounces of pumpernickel to reach the 6.0 ounces required.

I did not  have caramel coloring.  I made the choice to use one tablespoon espresso powder, plus one tablespoon cocoa powder, added to two tablespoons of lukewarm coffee.   This proved to be just what the doctor ordered.  ;)

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Light Wheat Bread

This is my cyber-gift to, Nicole (www.PinchMySalt.com), for offering the challenge of bread making and baking from Peter Reinhart’s, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice.  Her encouragement was, and is, greatly appreciated, as is her effort for making this very challenge possible.  Thanks, Nicole!  :)

Twice in one week I’ve nestled in with, Peter Reinhart’s (www.PeterReinhart.typepad.com), The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, and what better way to spend a wet and cold bit of time than before a toasty oven.  I have to apologize before I get too far along in this post.  At some point I’ll be waving my dirty laundry in public, or, more appropriately, showing off my rather dirty oven.  Okay, maybe I don’t have to apologize, I’m posting amongst the throngs of other baker’s that take heart in knowing that as long as an appliance is behaving, there is no shame in a bit of grease and grime, and especially if it proves baked on and sterile.  Such is the case in my home, this day, and on this bake.

Peter Reinhart (www.PeterReinhart.typepad.com), offers up his light wheat bread, on pages 181-182, however he fails to give us a photo-op (unless it is posted elsewhere in the frame of this beautiful book, and if it is, I stand corrected), perhaps his oven was not fit for its photo post this day, in which case, I more than understand.  In the end, all that will matter is that we note how beautiful this bread performs in spite of its less-than-stellar baking arena.

Look at the loaf,

NOT at the oven…..

I jumped for joy when I saw what was happening inside my sweet, toasty and very dirty oven.  I’d had a bit of a preview while this business sat doing its thing on the countertop.

In the beginning…..

Ready, set, go…..

After lift-off and re-entry…..

Landing pad…..

…..

I kept the ingredients per se, but veered off course with a few techniques.  I mixed my dough for one minute, covered it and allowed it to sit for an additional 25 minutes before adding the salt, and an additional tablespoon of water.  Then, I mixed the dough for one more minute, turned the mixer off and proceeded with kneading the dough on the counter for one more minute.  Total mix time for the dough:  three minutes. 

Tossing about a teaspoon of oil into the dirty (Ugh!….yikes, does this woman ever clean anything?), mixing bowl and swishing it over the surface, I then placed the dough in and covered it with plastic wrap.  I set the timer for 20 minutes and went about ignoring all signs of dirtiness about me.  I sat, with my feet propped up, t.v. on and radio playing in the background, surfing the net and eating chocolate covered bon-bons.  Oh, and drinking whiskey.  Twenty minutes into the fun, the timer beckoned me back into the kitchen.  I set about pulling and tugging at that dough as if I knew what I was doing. I did the proverbial stretch-and-fold technique that everyone over at that wonderous TLF (www.TheFreshLoaf.com) is hot about, and then threw that batch of dough back into the KA for another twenty-minute rest before resuming the chocolate indulgence and whiskey drinking.  I kept doing my technique thing for the sum total of tres times, allowing that 20 minutes siesta between bouts.  Finally, I was drunk and full of chocolates and it was time for me to think about what I would do to this little mass of fun, next;  I made the choice to let it sit, covered with the plastic, in a holding pattern for another hour. 

Fast forward, one hour, and we are back in the kitchen (yes, I had company.  What kind of fool do you think I am?  I never drink alone!), and it is now time to shape my little bebe into the semblance of a loaf.  I must first grease my TJMaxx find and refer to P.R.’s instructions on shaping a loaf.  (Yes, I needed a refresher course.  I’ve been wild yeasting my life away these past few months and I’ve lost touch…..and if you want to learn about wild yeast, please visit Susan’s blog, www.wildyeastblog.com)

I get the rough draft of a pinch going and realize success in no time flat.  Now it’s time to put this baby into the loaf pan, spray a sheet of plastic as a bed blanket, and ignore it for about 90 minutes.

Time for more chocolates and the residuals of the Southern Comfort fifth.  I am sadly disappointed when I realize there are only wrinkled candy wrappers and a drunk dog sprawled from the chairside of whence I came.

…..

This is my story and I’m sticking to it!

;)

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Lavash Crackers

Peter Reinhart knows his baked goods.  He knows them rather well.  This lovely little item is tucked into his,  The Bread Baker’s Apprentice,  pages 178-180.   And, while I am lagging in the rear pack of bakers of the wonderful BBA challenge, I’m still in the game.  I’m just taking a little bit longer than the rest of you.  I have a list of excuses a mile long, but none of them are worth two cents.  Besides, as long as the oven is warm, and the journey is, does anything else matter?

I didn’t think so.  ;)

…..

Quick!  Pronto!  Grab

 

a cracker while you can….. 

What’s not to love about a cracker; crisp, snappy and low-cal, unless of course you eat the entire contents of the daily bake.

Okay.  I had help.  The doggie happened into the room lured by the proceeds of  Smell-O-Vision.  It was all we could do to refrain from opening the oven door before bake time completed.  (Shhh, Hannah!  don’t tell anyone!)

Like a small child in the midst of a free-for-all playdough extravaganza, the spice cabinet held me its hostage.  I sprinkled  the likes of: poppy and sesame seeds, a caraway/celery seed combo, sweet intoxicating smoked paprika, flax seeds, garlic powder, and crushed rosemary.

At one point I teased myself into believing these would be wonderful alongside some homemade spinach and artichoke dip, but that fancy lasted all of two minutes. Who has time to whip up dip when they are stuffing two fists of goodness into their mouth?  Seriously.  Who needs dip anyway?

Exactly.

:)

Where’s my driver?

Seriously….

     where are they? 

…..

I searched the trunk. 

The front seat.

…and obviously, I’ve checked the back seat, too.

Nada.  Nothing.  Zip.  Zilch.  Nuffin. 

Reluctant and forlorn, I finally exited the auto.  I’ve gone into the house to sulk, oh, and to wait for another snow storm. 

There isn’t anything normal about Texas anymore. 

Respectfully,

Hannah

P.S.  When I learned you were sending the car, I obviously thought you were including yourselves in the package. 

Sniff, sniff, sniff.

Call home soon.  You need to ask the older lady if I’m still crying.  Oh, and please check to see if I’ve eaten.  She doesn’t seem to be doing much of that baking thing these days.   I guess she’s just about as depressed as I am.

I hid under the covers

for as long as I could.  Who could blame me?  It was warm, toasty, comfy, but then it occurred to me that the day was new, as was the adventure awaiting me.  I sprang to my feet and flew from the door.

What the heck?

I searched for hours, but to no avail.  All the sniffing and the scratching never led me to the likes of Mr. Elmer Fudd’s relatives.   I sulked my way back into the confines of the cozy cabin and threw another log on the fire. 

Tomorrow is a new day.

Love,

Hannah

‘Standing on a corner’

 …no, not in Winslow, but off the tarmac.  Here’s my latest fly-by:

It’s lunch hour.  I should be sunning myself on my bench. 

Instead, I am searching for a bit of green or brown space.  Or rather, a dry place.

At 5:00 o’clock I was beside myself.  I ventured into the front yard for signs of squirrel activity.   This stuff was causing me to become stir-crazy.  Cabin fever set in and I was beside myself.

Surely I would be rescued by another animal suffering the likes of ‘white-out’ stress.  I knew there were nuts to be collected, fur babies needing fed.   Where were those critters that relentlessly teased me?  Perhaps all I needed was another perspective.  Turning to my right, and down the opposite side of the street, I caught sight of this:

Absolutely, NUTTIN!

I wandered back into the confines of the warm and cozy nest and made a mental note to ignore the rest of the day.  

Some days just eat dirt, others, well, they simply give one the cold shoulder.

I feel for my friends back and to the east.  It will be weeks before they get a reprieve.  With luck, I’ll be out in the mud by noon tomorrow.

OOPS!

;)

Don’t be afraid

to stick your nose in the air.  Sometimes it’s absolutely necessary for survival. 

I ran into the yard recently and got a whiff of something, just not right.  I stood silent for a brief moment in time.  Off center and just beyond the bush, I caught sight of Elmer Fudd, the father of all squirrels, or at least the father of several dozen that wreak havoc upon my senses, daily. 

So, I did what I had to do.   Now, let us venture to Part II.

….

It occurred to me that I hadn’t wished you well, Happy New Year! much less, “Hello, how were your holidays?”  Forgive me, I’ve been basking in the sunshine of my most recent adventure. 

2009 is out like a light, and the year, 2010 is shining most bright.  May you fare well this year, always keeping steady to your dream, or finding a new one if the old one doesn’t do you justice.   (Don’t be afraid to change your resolutions, and your underwear, and your mind….most of all, your mind.)

Seek out only that of which you want and hope to learn, knowing full well that you can’t do everything by yourself.  Life requires teamwork, trials, tribulations, a whole mess (and mass), of unexpected frustrations, but in the end you’ll come up breathing if you do as I do.

Keep your nose in the air.  After all, Life belongs to those of us that are stuffy enough to expect the unexpected, and sure enough to know that when the odds are against us, our backs to the wall, there will always be more mayhem.  It’s a prerequisite to gaining, mojo.

Life ain’t easy, but it sure is worth living.  Especially when you share it with a friend, or two, or forty-seven.   I’m living proof!  The morning that I had my nose in the air?  My target beyond me?  I rallied.  I did it with the help of a friend.  I barked loud, furious, and most obnoxiously, until my best friend showed up to assist me. 

Never walk alone.

Call me.

I charge wholeheartedly into the wild,  and I never look back, down, or sideways. 

My nose is always in the air.  I’m not afraid to sniff the daylights out of you. 

We be buds.  :)

Love,

Hannah

;)

P.S.  Happy New Year!

What is this stuff….

….and why does it keep happening?

….

This girl drives me crazy.  She finds the most boring items, interesting, and to top it all off, she eats us out of house and home.  I simply can’t understand why she is allowed residency. 

 

…..

On the other hand, this person makes me very happy and I’m so glad she’s home to play with me. 

…..

Before I leave I have a special message for my other best friends.  This may not look like much to those that don’t know the story, but it’s an extra special Christmas wish that we make each year in tribute to our sweet friend Whippie-Nippy.  

One Christmas morning we found our best bud chomping on the likes of a Red Delicious.  He’d found it in his stocking and quickly began a ‘carving tribute’ to Santa, thanking him for all his generosity.

 P.S.  Mr. Whipper’s we didn’t have a Red Delicious, but a Granny Smith.  Enjoy!

;)

Shhh…..

Don’t wake anyone.  I’m just taking a little peek. 

P.S.  I think this is the right one. 

Winter Wonder Land

 

It’s the small things that count.  You know, those little things that brighten the day, turn the tide on all that came before, and sets the stage for even greater appreciation.  Here’s a fine example:

I pulled up to my local post office yesterday (well, actually I drove over one village because the helpers there are a bit more friendly and a whole-lot more helpful than the ones in my city), and as I was unloading my cargo I found it necessary to make return trips to my car.  This is when I encountered a couple of angels who promised to stand guard over my laundry basket of tidings (yes, it was the one I use for the daily dirties) while I lugged a second round of proceeds into the building.

Upon my return, the lovely angels assured me that they have held my place in line, but I quickly relented, telling them that I would be a bit and that they should go forward without me.  About this time, a gentleman of likewise age and character came stumbling into the recesses of my holding area.  I made way, clearing and stacking my items as he set out to apologize for being unsettled, unorganized and overwhelmed.  (This is where I got my chance to play my earlier fortunes, forward.)  Looking at the stressed and fretted gentleman, I set about to reassure him that he was fine, and he need not to concern himself on my account.  Commotion aside, I jokingly admitted to him, as I pointed:

 ”I’ve had my moments this morning, too”!   (Actually, I’d been having moments for about 57 years, but I held off on too much info, not wanting to see him bolt before he got his life together  and  his packages shipped.)

As I scanned  the likes of his malcontent, I noted a pair of little girls slippers, a sweater, and something else nondescript and unidentifiable.  To one side of his mêlée, he held a gift bag, tissue paper , a roll of strapping tape and one of those convenient, “Put it all in here and we’ll charge you one price” boxes.  As he fumbled to organize his parcel,  the postmaster called me forward.  I left him behind and became busy with my own agenda.   Mr. Dis A. Ray was left to his own devices,  however crude or elementary, as exemplary, or astonishing  they may be.

My helper, at the counter, began to tally and tag the seemingly endless array of joys I’d bundled, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed  that, Mr. Dis A. Ray, was now standing right beside me, one cubby over, and enjoying the assistance of a second postal worker.   With nervous chatter, ‘Mr. Dis’ goes round-about saying that he has been putting this off, waiting until he can wait no longer, and explaining that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s in charge of doing it anyway.  He eagerly accepts the help of his postal buddy and as these two gentlemen set about wrapping the childs gift I find myself challenged by Mr. Dis A. Ray’s exclamation:

 ”Hey, I don’t care what becomes of it after it leaves my sights.  I just want to be rid of it!”

This is when I finally snapped myself out my sugar-induced, caffeine-ladened stupor and returned my sights back to my own affairs.  Had I been guilty of the same frenetic frustrations, caught up within my own trappings?  Had Christmas gone from being a joy, to being a burden?   Why just earlier that morning I found myself wrestling a no-good, cheap roll of strapping tape, cursing myself all the while for purchasing something so vile, worthless and useless. (Had I no sense?).  Even earlier,  I had managed to wrangle dozens of cookies from the recesses of my own oven only to notice that this NEW oven has a cracked and failing touchpad.  Yes, and then there’s that hiccup with the robotic vacuum boy, Mr. Rogers, that newly discovered cracked tile in the kitchen, and the fruit-fly, Holiday Infection Convention droning away and using the countertops as their landing pad.   And, lest we forget the laundry basket that I’d used to carry this sleigh of goodies in, somehow I didn’t think those proceeds were at home washing themselves in the likes of that sorry excuse, Mr. Maytag.   (He moans at me one more time and I’m letting my vile spew…. Suzie Samsung is alive and waiting.)  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I almost allowed that  ”Mr. Dis’  to array my own categories of happiness during this festive season.  Why, I’d had a lovely time wrapping those scored goodies, and when that strapping tape tried to be a bad mother to me, I simply gave her up and went and found two other faithfuls.  That new oven sadness?  That’s remedied, or about to be,  I dialed Mr. G.E. so fast his head now spins like Mr. Maytag’s.  Cracked tile?  Oh, surely you jest! I think my next home project is a make-over of all the broken tiles. ( Mosaic flooring is probably the new vogue.  I’ll simply be a few steps ahead of Martha on that one.)

Yes, the man almost got to me, but then I remembered who I was, and I quickly recovered.  I’m sipping coffee and typing this morning knowing that the countdown is on and the panic, subsided.  Surely Mr. Dis A. Ray has rebounded by now, too, or, is he back in line this morning attempting a second mailing?  One, we’ll never know.  Two?  Well that would be his second package and chances are he doesn’t have the mojo. 

His recipient has no idea that her slippers and sweater have been so badly man-handled, shoved and stuffed into tissue and bag in careless abandon.  She’s much too young, the thing she will remember:  The  joy and excitement upon receiving her package.  And to tell the truth, isn’t that the  ALL and EVERYTHING of Christmas?

I hope that thought finds its way back to Mr. Dis A. Ray before it’s too late.  I’d hate to think he missed it.

Everyone deserves a bit of happiness.  Especially, Santa.

Busy, busy, busy…..

 

so busy!

…..

 

The Little Engine That Could

Pffft…pfft..pffttttttttttttt…..pfffffffffffffffffffttttttttttttttttttttt…….

(Go with me on this, I’m trying to be an engine)

Single, Cessna, engine.

…..

This story began on a Sunday, before sunrise, as I journeyed westward to California.  

I grabbed a flight early and with a promised read in tow, a purse bulging with legal-sized toiletries and my additional carry-on, I found myself finally dispatched to gain my son.

I arrived in Sacramento around noon, pulling my cellphone from the bottom of my bulging tote, I began my search for the pilot of that single engine Cessna. 

Had he forgotten our game plan?  Surely not.  I know him better, or believe that I do.  Of course this may change radically as time passes and he gains knowledge of this woman he will call his mother-in-law.  But for now, I do believe I am safe in his harbor of knowledge.  He hasn’t been around enough to know better, not yet.  So with this, I began to worry, but as all mother’s are apt to do, I kept my thoughts to myself as I dialed my daughter and casually asked, “Did Jacob get off okay?” 

“Yeah, Mom.  Isn’t he there to meet you?”

I assured her that I’m sure he was, but with my departure from the airliner, taking time to exit, and then my dash to the bathroom,…..well, let me not show concern…….If she thought he should be here, then he was, and with that confirmed, I announced.

“Well, I’m sure he is looking for me as I look for him.  You know, why don’t I just give him a shout on this cellphone?”

“Okay, Mom.”

Sure enough, the Man of the Hour was present, if only a few feet or yards beyond me.  Once we discovered each other we were on our way.  Over the mountains, into the valley, and homeward to meet my soon-to-be, new family.

…..

pfffffft… pfft..pfffft….

(Yeah, make some more of those sounds in your head to build some momentum.  You might need it.  Remember, this is my story and while it is very exciting in my mind, it may be less in yours.  I’m sorry if the latter is true, because you really are going to miss out on a bit of my fun and all of my panic.  There is a wedding six days from today.)

…..

The clouds are building, and with them, the wind.  I heed no mind, but my pilot takes note.  He’s awaiting the departure of two jets ahead of us on the tarmac.   We bide our time.   He is making mental notes of all that is necessary and I am pinching myself to be sure that all of this is actually taking place.  Flying has always fascinated me, whether in the cockpit, or back in row 23, the window seat.   I am always the eager passenger.

 Then there is a quick lesson as we taxi.  I learn how we know, where we are, when we are, where we are, on the runway.  Those signs have meaning!  Oh, and so does his checklist.  He ran through it before we began our taxi, but  a studious and thoughtful soul, perhaps I might enjoy knowing what he is doing?  Yes! and in my awe-struck mode I learn much, but due to my excitement I must confess that I cannot take a test, not yet.  I must simply enjoy, but if I need to know something I’ll be holding, THE NOTES. 

Okay.  Finally those two aircraft get the heck out of ‘Dodge’…er, Sacramento, and as we allow vortices to clear, Jake tells me that it won’t be long now, we have actually spent more time trying to get away from the airport than the amount of time it will take to get where we are going. 

Dang!  I do not want to hurry.  (Well, part of this is not true.  I am most anxious to see my daughter.  It’s been seven months since I caught sight of her beautiful face.)  But, there is this part of me that can’t wait to watch my soon-to-be son pilot this airplane. 

And he does.  Setting in place what needs to be.  Checking things that must be checked.  Navigating the airspace.  I suddenly realize what this truly means to him. 

Our adventures begin, with him flying the plane and me pretending to visuals, yet my eyes are not seeking aircraft, but the ground below me.  There is so much to behold.  The land is rich in vegetation, a patchwork of finery I haven’t witnessed in eons.  I’d forgotten what rich farmlands looked like.  Swimming in a sea of concrete and steel has hardened me for longer than I care to admit.  All at once I am waxing nostalgic for all that I had once known.  Suddenly the realization overcomes me that it is not forgotten, not if I choose to remember it.  This gift came unexpected, but welcomed in the beauty of all its delivery. 

This was one of many magical days that would rise to meet me during this September.  I truly was in for the time of my life.

…..

 Pffttt…..ppffft…..pffttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt…. 

Oh, let’s just face it.  I cannot make single-engine airplane noise.  I try, but as I might, something is lost in translation.  I do hope you will allow me my adventure though, gaining my son has been a joyful experience.

I am blessed.

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Kaiser Rolls

 

Sourdough, charged up and ready to, Rambo, the taste buds. 

Honestly, I’d like to tell you what it is that I did, but I’m guilty of playing in my dough on this bake.   Most likely I’d added some rye to my bread flour, forgotten purified water and used tap instead.  Who knows?  I sure don’t.  I’m sorry. 

Forgive me, for I have sinned.

Oh, who am I kidding?  Sourdough is friendly.  If you treat it nicely.  If you don’t: 

Oops!

…..

But, I digress…..

Peter’s recipe called for a pâte fermentée.  I opted to use a portion of my sourdough, nestled and waiting in the lovely, Miss G.E.   Fresh, minced onion, was added to this particular item, a few days back, thus giving this particular bake* an added note of flavour.  Generally, I would caution anyone from adding onion to their preserved piece of dough, but I knew that I would be using the remainder of this batch for the specific Kaiser bake.  (NOTE:  fresh onion will darken after a few days in your unbaked dough, also, onion is wet, sometimes requiring you to adjust your flour content, markedly.) 

*The other noted adjustment to P.R.’s Kaiser Rolls:  I doubled his recipe and deleted one of the teaspoons of yeast requested per his instructions for the completed recipe.

I use Peter Reinhart’s recipes as roadmaps.  Sometimes I will  take a path not designated by his written word.  Not that this is ever necessary, it isn’t, and if I might note:  If you want consistency you should ALWAYS follow the directions.  I’ll go off on a tangent and ‘invent’  some sort of detour, but what the heck.  I’m too busy smelling the flours to worry over any warning signs.  Besides, I don’ t think P.R. writes warning signs.  Actually, I’m pretty sure he would encourage a wayward act from time to time, as long as it didn’t involve hurting any living thing, or as long as the intent was in good faith.  You know, as a noble act of kindness.  That form of waywardness.  Yeah.  I’m sure he’d approve.  ;)

And evidently my friends approved of this detour.  They attacked these rolls like a starving pack of wolves.

I have ‘fake’ scars to prove it:

 

My bread box is empty! 

….. 

 Flashbulb color coding:

 Eaten by a pack of wolves, the friendly kind:

 :)

…..

Peter Reinhart’s book, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, was my guide.

Baking aboard the Ark

 

We’ve had a bit of rain, things are wet, but we no longer toss that “D” word around these days. The last thirty days have been a real toad-strangler, and although I fear I may jinx things by complaining, I can’t resist my need to swear, “Enough is enough!”….

Things happen. Take for instance that garden. It grew nicely, but without the intervention of soaker hoses it would have been for naught. I think I had twenty tomatoes via thirteen plants. The gods must have been warning me about that number. Who knows.  All I can tell you is that I heeded caution over the beets, fennel and swiss chard seeds earlier this week, opting to delay the planting of my fall garden until after the ‘potential’ flood had receded.   Normally I would ignore the weather men and women, but I caught sight of a ‘real nasty’ poke-in-the-eye, via satellite, heading east via Cabo this past weekend. ”It” was dancing rough and getting ready to tumble inward. I chose to just belly up to the bar and hold the planting until after the promised deluge.
Rather a good idea.  Had it not been for the french drains, this ark would have found its way to the Rio Grande and then onward to the Gulf of Mexico.  As it is, we held ourselves to the buoys and docked this sucker hoping for a reprieve.  Hey, it’s still overcast kids, but the patio is no longer under water and the dog has only had to be hosed off once in the past few hours. 

I thought about submitting a recipe for mudpies, but it’s been awhile since I’ve had the nerve to feast upon a few, so here’s my answer to, ‘Ark fever’:

 

Choc-O-bits, Orange & Cream Cheese Muffins

(a variation of a recipe Frances gave me in the last millenium.  Yields approximately 21 muffins, give or take.)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees

 

1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese (room temp)
1 stick of unsalted butter (room temp)
1 2/3 cups granulated sugar
2 eggs (room-temp)
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (I like K.A.)
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon Kosher salt
1 cup milk (room-temp)
1/4 cup chopped pecans
1/3 cup bittersweet chocolate chips
3 Tablespoon chocolate jimmies (the REAL kind)
2 Tablespoon orange zest (fresh)

…..

Orange Glaze

1/3 cup fresh squeezed orange juice
2 to 3 cups confectioners sugar
…………

Cream butter and cream cheese in mixer, add sugar and beat until light and fluffy .. total mix time, approx., 5 minutes. Add eggs, beating well after each addition.

Combine the sifted flour, baking powder, salt, and add to the creamed mixture, alternating with milk, beginning and ending with the sifted flour contents. Stir well, but do not over beat. Finally, stir in pecans, orange zest, chocolate chips and jimmies. Spoon batter into lined muffin pans 3/4 full and bake at 375 degrees for 24 to 26 minutes.

…..

Allow muffins to cool for ten minutes in baking pans before removing to a wire rack. Using orange and confectioners glaze, drizzle each muffin and allow to finish cooling before serving or storing for later use.

These will freeze well and can be kept for later use. Simply defrost in fridge overnight or uncovered on countertop for one hour.

Enjoy!

Dusting off the edges

Just in time to celebrate my secretary’s second anniversary:

Because Frances and De Lois would want it that way….and, to tell the truth, I do too. 

I have a million and one stories to tell about THAT wedding.  A plane ride and 230 to 250 cupcakes (Silla and I lost count; imagine that!).

(Happy Birthday, Miss C.!  I can’t wait to see you again.  Love, Auntie ‘M’.)

To infinity and beyond…

canasta

automated card shuffle

tea

cocoa

rose bushes

hydrangeas

daughters

country blue plaid

ivy-patterned china

ginger snaps

iced coffee

garden gnome’s

Martha Stewart

a matching pair of scissors

Seinfeld

rattan & wicker

angels

teddy bears

bananas

warm 7-Up

jigsaw puzzles

sewing machine

fabric scraps

the ‘slipping’ tablecloth

gophers

garden seeds

peanut butter

aspirin

melting gingerbread houses

crape myrtles

woodwork

books

Denny’s Grand-Slam

coffee creamers

blue willow china

chocolate covered coffee beans

sweatshirts

head cheese

bread pudding

Cassata

baking soda

4’9″ and shrinking  (LOL!)

granny boots

Fiddler on the Roof

Les Misérables

Pavarotti.  The Three Tenors

VCR hell

crocheted blankets

blood pressure cuff

a fist full of coins

toothpaste

a bad haircut

pasta making

“Is this cilantro or mint?”  (LOL)

homeowner dues

lithographs

lemons from Jo’s

Monarch butterflies

animal crackers

kleenex boxes

pendulum clock

Bunco

PrissCilla the cat

Jack pines

clothesline in the attic

“I could give a rat’s ass!”

“M A R J O R I E!”

“F R A N C E S!”

‘I wake up and say, “Thank you”every day.’

breast cancer

radiation

heart attack

Gilroy garlic

spring cleaning

fresh draperies

the eye-of-a-needle

Dove chocolates

chocolate and black licorice

restorations

fretwork

lattice

William Morris

Ethan Allen

Schumacher

Challah

…this list weaves across the heavens, and is, itself, endless.

Decadent!

  Peanut Butter AND Chocolate.

 Oh Martha, you shouldn’t have!

…..but I am so glad that you did…..

My kids are going to be very happy

Here’s my list:

 

Chai-Tea

Devil’s Food

Yellow Buttermilk

Peanut Butter-filled Chocolate

…..

I sent my last two boxes yesterday, parting with my baking scale and those favored kitchen utensils I simply can’t be without…oh, and there’s a baking pan in my carry-on. 

I’m operating under scrutiny of Murphy’s Law, but that’s not going to hold me hostage.  I’ve got a game plan and I’m willing to punt, pass, and or steal if I have to in order to execute it. 

Swine flu?  Grab me if you dare!  My game’s on! 

Cake Wrecks?  Try it!  I dare ‘ya!

Last Train Going Nowhere?  Not likely…this girl’s ready and dealing with a full deck.

Nervous?  Oh dang, are you serious?  What fool wouldn’t be?  But that ain’t delaying this chick from boarding the plane come Sunday morning. 

Ready?  As I’ll ever be.

Pumped?  Beyond your wildest imaginations!

Is California ready for you?  I don’t know, are they ready for Texas?

;)

P.S.  Martha is the beauty queen and princess of my isle.  She wins this one, hands down!  All four recipes are from here new book:

http://www.marthastewart.com/photogallery/martha-stewarts-cupcakes#slide_12

I can’t thank you enough, Martha, but I can tell you publicly how much I appreciate you. 

And I do!

;)

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Italian Bread

Peter Reinhart’s recipe for Italian Bread is soft, super-soft!   I’ve baked this item times before, but it was this baking that stands out as one of my best.  The secret?…. allowing the dough to retard for almost three days,  Try it, you’ll be surprised at the difference an extra day (or two) makes.   Just don’t push it beyond three days unless you are prepared to suffer consequence.  And as I say this, I can’t really tell you why I say it, other than we are told by Peter that it is good up to three days.  Hey, who am I to challenge a master?  Yeah.  That’s right…I am just a flour-dusted woman playing in a singular kitchen. So kids, do as you are told, and follow them thar directions.  

 As I set about planning for the holiday weekend, it was a no-brainer for me to put together bases for three bread bakes.  There was that bit of concern that I had been lagging behind in the challenge that Nicole offers and I’ve committed to (The Bread Baker’s Challenge, www.pinchmysalt.com) , but even more necessary was my need to enjoy the respite of all things, floured.  Baking is therapeutic for me, and bread baking is at the very top of my list of favorite things to make.  (Cookies and cupcakes follow neck-to-neck as my second/third choices.)

…..

The Italian Bread recipe called for a biga.  While some baker’s keep one on hand, I’m guilty of being less prepared since I’ve learned to dry and refrigerate my sourdough starter.  And so, along with the poolish made to create the lovely fruited focaccia, and the pâte fermentée used within the french bread, I found myself mixing a biga.  (I highly recommend building starters in batches, it proves worthy once you’ve been spoiled by a bake.  Invariably you’ll create something and think, “Wow, I’m going to do that again, ASAP!”  You’ll be a bit delayed if you need to retard your starter.  Plan ahead.)

…..

(Forgive the less than stellar lighting and my attempt at infusing additional light upon the subject matter.)

Note, these babies are a bit dusty, but my heavy-handed flour toss was necessary in order for me to get some sort of grip on my dough.  I’ve got to work on that pinching too, as you can see, both loaves are definitely, free-form.  ;)

And, while I’m admitting to other items I’ve overlooked in the past, let me add this item:

I’ve owned my copy of, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice , (www.PeterReinhart.typepad.com)

for almost two years now, but somehow I’ve managed ‘to forget’ that Peter gives us details about what a scored loaf can denote.  He states:

 

“In some instances the cuts are distinctive to a

particular village or baker.”

 

Interesting tidbit.  Makes me want to come up with very own little trademark.  ;)

 

  

:)

Happy Bakes 2U2!

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, French Bread

 

Once again, Peter Reinhart delivers on his promise for full-flavor, from all things floured, with his formula for French bread.    I find this bread is a challenge for me, but only because I hold a great fear of wet doughs.  Fashioning them, delivering them to the hearth for baking, intimidates the heck out of me.  This was my second time to make this bread.  I believe I did a bit better this go-round, but I am far from baker’s perfection.

I created my pâte fermentée as directed, one day prior to my bake, opening a new bag of bread flour, and while measuring, noted that it weighed heavy long before the measuring cup said it might.  But I swear by my scale, and so, onward I went toward mixing the dough.  I found myself going back for an additional scoop of flour to meld the final results.  (Peter tells us that it might be necessary to make flour/water adjustments.)

It’s been a rather dusty environment lately.  Flour dust has settled within every nook and cranny of my kitchen, and therefore, the rest of this house.   I’m baking up a storm these days.  What began as an effort to catch-up to the others in the fold of Nicole’s group of, The Bread Baker’s Challenge, it has now become an obsession.   (A week from now my feet land on the fertile soil of northern California, and my hands begin the steady motion of a marathon bake.  I’m building confidences as I stride.)  ;)

…..

Things moved along according to plan, that is, until it was time to move the loaves to the baking stone.  Oops!  I have a casualty, but do I throw my hands in the air and curse the gods?  Nay!

I did fail to mist this loaf, mainly because of the oh-so-ugly shaping.  (I was tempted to file 13 her, but I looked beyond her beauty and found her soul.)  The old girl did get a heavy mist of oil though, as she was destined to get her shine on!

Yes.  It is a graph! 

Now the following is a far cry from the ‘graph’, but it still needs tweaking.  Scared-to-death and fearing I will overwork the baguettes, I tread cautiously.  I don’t want to degas the heck out of ‘em for fear I’ll ruin those lovely air pockets.  They are the hallmark of this lovely, without them, I be spent.

Here are some lovely little expansions.  My husband and I ‘tunneled’ our way through the better part of a full loaf before the dinner dishes were loaded and washing in the automatic. 

One of these days I’ll be so full of air you’ll swear that I float, by gosh, by golly.  I swear it!  Stay tuned, they’ll be more of these French babies in my pocket somewhere down the road.  I’m determined to capture the magic.

My continued thanks to Nicole, www.pinchmysalt for setting this effort in motion.  The Bread Baker’s Challenge is hosted by this sweet soul.   Our challenge?  To bake our way through Peter Reinhart’s work,  The Bread Baker’s Apprentice.  Visit P.R.’s website at www.PeterReinhart.typepad.com .   Please join us as we travel through this lovely book.  Our goal?  To bake each and every one of its recipes!

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Poolish Focaccia (Fruited)

This lovely bread is as versatile as they come.  Sweet or savory, take your pick.  I have never had a problem with this item.  It can turn an ordinary bread pizza into an extra special delivery.  Dimpled with a soft interior, you can bake it to crust as you wish, but take heed:  Easy does it when working with dried fruits.  I had a few causalities with my Chilean raisins, but I picked the bad boys off and served up the others, very happy that I had included them in my adventure.

Today found my neighbor having surgery, and therefore, housebound and recuperating.  I knew I wanted to send her a treat, but it wasn’t until I was building formula’s in my kitchen yesterday that I decided on a fruited option.  The Bread Baker’s Challenge, is the inspiration of Nicole,  www.pinchmysalt.com .   We gather to pursue the goal of baking our way through Peter Reinhart’s lovely book, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice .  Peter is master baker, instructor and author.  Visit his site, www.PeterReinhart.typepad.com

Knowing that I’d be using tablespoons of olive oil in the dough (I did dimple the top of the bread with 1/2 cup of butter, choosing it over an additional amount of olive oil), it was a mental dance with taste flavors that helped me to decide upon my choice of fruits.  I didn’t want anything  fighting or challenging that lovely virgin olive oil taste within the interior.  So, as I settled into sleep last night, playing a game of what-ifs with flavor combinations, I stumbled upon my fancies of fruit and butter. 

I’ve baked Peter Reinhart’s Focaccia too many times to count, always choosing to make the initial recipe from, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, but this bake was my first attempt at his poolish version.  This did not disappoint and will find itself amongst future bakes.  By creating a poolish, retarding and using it in a second or third day bake, you find yourself unlocking flavors beyond those of the same day focaccia bread(s).

 

Forming the dough into a rectangle with the aid of a few folds.  Pretend that this is rectangular in shape.  Okay?  ;)

 

Lord, have mercy upon me. 

 

Is there anything more beautiful than fruit, nuts and chocolate?

 

This is the landscape of my dreams:

It ain’t burnt, it’s toasty, roasted and gooey with chocolate in spaces that fill places.  :)

Forget the Kit-Kat bar.   Give me focaccia!

The almonds were toasted atop the stove in a tablespoon of butter, slowly.  Once they began to expand a bit, I added a sprinkling of cinnamon sugar.  All-in-all, I toasted those little babies for about 40 minutes.  They were then cooled and forcefully hit upon their noggins with a rolling pin.  (They were hiding in a plastic bag, but the rolling pin found them.  Oops…Ouch! )

;)

…..

Winging it with fruit, nuts and chocolate

• 2 ounces chopped bittersweet chocolate (Ghirardelli)
• 4 Calimyrna figs (chopped)
• 10 dried California apricots (chopped)
• a small fist of Chilean Flame raisins
• another fist, this time a gathering of cinnamon-sugar/toasted almonds (crushed & broken)

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, English Muffins

No, these are not dinner rolls, but simply English Muffins in the making.  The free-form comes from the  hands of a woman who failed to read the recipe per instructions.  And they were, VERY GOOD INSTRUCTIONS.

Peter Reinhart teaches us via, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice.  With time and patience, we can perform magic in our very own kitchens.  English Muffins need not gestate, take form and deliver themselves via a bread bag, dated and drying upon a store shelf.  No.  These little beauties can be crafted by you, anytime, any day, anywhere, as long as you are ready, willing and able.

Kudos, and many thanks to Peter for his instructions.  I absolutely love my baking book, and although I noted (this very afternoon), that it is beginning to show the signs of use, and that it is no longer in mint condition, I consoled myself with the knowledge that I am better because of it.

I am also better because of Nicole, over at www.pinchmysalt.com.  She encouraged many of us to pursue a baking challenge alongside of her.  We will be baking our way through, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, during the next several weeks.  (As of matter-of-fact, we are well on our way.)

I can’t think of a better way to spend my time. 

Celebrating Nicole and Peter, I dedicate these lovelies in their honor.

:)

Oh look!  The old woman has done a double-take with the baking book.  She realizes she has ‘almost’ missed the opportunity to utilize those baking forms she scoured the local stores for (and finally settled on ordering the ‘real’ thing from KA).

Hark.  Has this woman performed a double-bake?  By gosh, by golly, I do believe she has!  (There’s a Cranberry-Walnut Celebration Bread waiting in the background.)

The crumb is silky, smooth and down-right, tasty!

Be kind to yourself. 

Bake bread.

Share it with your inner spirit.  You’ll be amazed at your transformation. 

Happy Bakes 2 U!

;)

The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, Cranberry-Walnut Celebration Bread (infused with Kahlua)

Catching up with the fold of bread baker’s as we journey onward,  baking the recipes from Peter Reinhart’s, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice.   Peter Reinhart’s blog is posted at,  www.PeterReinhart.typepad.com

 This lovely challenge is brought to us by Nicole of, www.pinchmysalt.com .

I dedicate this bake to Nicole and Peter.

This bread can be prepped and baked all within a day.  However, after receiving a panicked phone call from a frantic college kid, I stopped in my tracks (after the mixing of the dough).  Into the refrigerator, and retarded for one full day, I allowed the dough to sit at room temp for one hour before I weighed and scored it, braided and placed it for it’s final rise.  One hour and fifteen minutes later I baked her per instructions noted in that lovely book, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice.

 

Sometimes we simply know that we are, ‘in-the-zone’, and so it was, finally, after days of procrastination (and being held hostage by a hand-sewing project), I ventured back into my kitchen. 

I’d purchased large raisins last week with the intention of using them in this bake.  Mainly because I frown upon dried cranberries.  There’s just something about that item that I find unappetizing.   The shriveled skins, or perhaps the mere fact, I am so dedicated to the fresh, crisp, and tart fruit when it’s in season.  I never bother with those little buggers in the bag, and yet I had to stop myself before going forward.

“There has to be a reason Peter Reinhart uses them in this bread”…..so off I went to Wally’s World, succumbing to the purchase of a bag, only to find myself tinkering with them once we journeyed home.  Three tablespoons of Kahlua later, a few days to soak, and it was time to go for the bake. 

 

They plumped up nicely and exuded a somewhat mystical aroma when baking within their lair.

Rolling and prepping for a piggy-back ride. 

There’s a small braid atop a larger braid.  Can you see the two?

Beauty is tempting me, but I’m on that diet.  (I’m sneaking a piece at dinner time.  Shhh…don’t tell on me.)

Bread is a beautiful journey.  :)

‘On a wing and a prayer’

Come heck or high water, I’m back in my nest in the morning.  I’ve got to get back to the fold, the bread baking fold of, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice Challenge* presented by Nicole (www.pinchmysalt.com).  They are two, three, or is it four loaves ahead of me?  Or should I say, rather, that I am that far behind them?  Yes.  That’s more accurate.

I’ve been guilty of procrastination.  I think it’s actually more acute these days, brought forth by the lack of sugar and flour in my food pyramid.  It’s not healthy for me to operate under the influence of withdrawl.  As of matter-of-fact, it can get downright ugly. 

When I stepped from the car and into the cubicle of my hairdresser’s abode this afternoon he screamed from the mere sight of me.  I quickly set about explaining  (probably more like….mumbling) something to the effect that my busy schedule had kept me from maintaining myself properly.  Speechless, he backed away, grabbed a Home Depot-style color thing (only this had fake hair, grown nuclear), and began his assault.  Two hours, fifteen minutes later, several dollars vacant, and I can call myself a new woman.   Well, almost,  you see I’m  missing a few very important components.  Namely:  

flour and sugar…..

After all, I ain’t no fool.  I can drink diet shakes till those cows come home, put miles upon miles on my tennies, but if those diet gods have it out for me, there ain’t nothing I can do about it!  Well, let me amend that.  Although I’m not a revenge-seeking sort of person, I do get a bit of satisfaction once I get brave enough to accept resignation.  It takes only one thing, and I made danged sure I had it loaded in my cart as I flew through Wally’s World this afternoon:

Butter.

If I’m going down, I plan on sliding.  ;)

*based on the book, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, written by Peter Reinhart (www.peterreinhart.typepad.com)

Daring Bakers Challenge – Dobos Torta

The August 2009 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Angela of A Spoonful
of Sugar and Lorraine of Not Quite Nigella. They chose the spectacular Dobos
Torte based on a recipe from Rick Rodgers’ cookbook Kaffeehaus:  Exquisite
Desserts from the Classic Caffés of Vienna, Budapest, and Prague.

 

…..

I held off baking this magnificent item until the last child was out the doorway and the hubby was aboard an aircraft.  I knew this challenge would push me beyond my comfort zone, but isn’t that the reason we are Daring Baker’s?  Let us go where we do not feel familiar and set up shop in the world(s) of the awesome endeavors.

This month’s offering did just that.

Having never made caramel, nor a sponge cake as thin and creative as this, I found myself a bit overwhelmed by the learning curve set before me.    The cake dough was easy enough, but it was the butter-cream and the caramel that proved the most daunting.

I failed horribly at my butter-cream.   It was runny, and although tasty, did not form well even after a lengthy chill.  The caramel, beautiful amber and clearly appetizing, did nothing but frustrate me.  Angela tells us to work quickly, and provides us with excellent tips on how to tame this tiger, but none-the-less, I found myself anxious and sweating bullets while attempting to smooth it against the sponge.  No matter how feverishly I worked, the sponge and the caramel fought for the upper hand.  Finally, exasperated and overwhelmed, I did my best to console myself that at least I hadn’t given up, walked away, and condemned my own kitchen.   After all was said and done, there was more caramel on the counter-tops, sinks and the stove-top than either of my two small tortes. 

….

I do want to thank Angela (www.aspoonfulofsugar.net/wp/) and Lorraine (www.NotQuiteNigella.com) for their offering of this grand dessert.  These wonderful ladies gave me an opportunity to push-the-envelope on my creative endeavors and helped me build some new skills (and admiration for those that tackle them).  I’ve got a learning curve, but at least I can say I made a foray into caramel and butter-cream.  Before today, neither of those items flanked my arsenal of ‘Know-How’s, and if I might add, for as many cupcakes and cakes that I bake, I HAVE NEVER made a true butter-cream.    I use a heavy hand of confectioners sugar and loads of butter, but eggs?  I be chicken….I still be chicken, but now I am a Daring Chicken.  ;) 

Also, thanks to our dear and present leaders of the pack, Lisa, http://llcskitchen.blogspot.com/ and Ivonne, http://www.creampuffsinvenice.ca/ .   They are responsible for giving us this fantastic mode of travel into culinary wonder.  They help us to create magic, build friendships and conquer new territories.  I am forever grateful to both of you.  :)

…..

making the sponge:

• 6 large eggs, separated and at room temperature
• 1 1/3 cups (162g) confectioner’s sugar, divided
• 1 teaspoon (5ml) vanilla extract
• 1 cup, plus two tablespoons (112g) sifted cake flour (can substitute 95g of plain flour + 17g cornflour (sifted & combined)
• pinch of salt

 Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Beat egg yolks, 2/3 cup (81g) of confectioner’s sugar, the vanilla in a medium bowl with a mixer on high until item is thick, pale yellow and forms a thick ribbon when the beaters are lifted.  This should take about 3 minutes.

Using another bowl and clean beaters, beat the egg whites until they form soft peaks.  Gradually beat in the remaining 2/3 cup (81g) of confectioner’s sugar until the egg whites form stiff and shiny peaks.  Next, stir about 1/4 of the beaten whites into the egg yolk mixture, using a large rubber spatula.  Now, fold in the remainder, leaving a few wisps of white visible.  Combine flour and salt and sift halve over the eggs, fold in, then repeat with the remaining flour. 

Pipe or form an approximate 1/4 cup of batter in an even layer atop a cut and fashioned piece of parchment (I used a small spring-form base as my template).  Smooth this layer with a small offset spatula.  Proceed filling parchment singles until your baking sheet is filled.  (I was able to bake six at a time).  Bake in the oven for five full minutes, remove and allow to cool briefly before peeling back the parchment.  (My parchment scores did double-duty; I used them consecutive times).  While these items continue to cool, set another pan of lined sheets into the oven and bake then for their five minute time period.  Continue to bake in batches until all of your sponge dough has been utilized. 

Allow cakes to thoroughly cool on a baking rack.  Once they have, move them to a cleaned workspace.  Waxed paper or parchment is good.  Your next step will be to frost these with butter-cream.

…..

An ice cream scoop works well to load the parchment.  A small offset spatula helps to spread the dough:

Why does this lady not clean her equipment properly?  Oh, but she does!  The pan is simply as old as the old woman:

Cooling and prepping for the next stage:

God’s way of making life tolerable when the warmonger from Hades shows his face:

Almost, but not quite, as wonderful as chocolate:

…..

Chocolate Butter-cream:

• 4 large eggs that are at room temperature
• 1 cup (200g) caster sugar
• 4 oz. (112g) bakers chocolate, finally chopped
• 2 sticks, plus 2 Tablespoons (250g) unsalted butter, room temperature

Prepare a double boiler by filling a large saucepan one quarter of the way full.

Beat eggs with sugar until pale and thickened.  This will take approximately five minutes.  You can use a balloon whisk or an electric hand mixer.  I chose to use my stand mixer using my stainless steel bowl atop the heated water for the following:

Fit bowl over boiling water, but do not allow water to touch the bowl.  Lower your heat so that you have a nice, brisk simmer.  Whisk eggs constantly as you cook the mixture for 2-3 minutes until you see it starting to thicken.  Follow this by whisking the finely chopped chocolate and continue to cook, while stirring, for another 2 to 3 minutes. 

Scrape the chocolate mixture into a medium-sized bowl and allow it to cool to room temperate before proceeding. 

…..

Setting the stage for frosting:

I should have stopped here, returned the bowl to the stove top, and went for the making of a chocolate pudding:

When it has cooled, beat in the soft butter, a small piece at a time (about 2 tablespoons increments).  You should end up with a thick and velvety chocolate butter-cream.  Place this into your refrigerator and proceed to making the caramel.

…..

Awe heck!  Add the butter, anyway, and prepare for a lovely shade of, What color?:

Caramel topping:

• 1 cup (200g) caster sugar
• 12 Tablespoon (180ml) water
• 8 teaspoons (40ml) lemon juice
• 1 Tablespoon of a neutral-based oil (sunflower, grape-seed or rice bran will work)

Choose your best-looking cake layer for the caramel top. 

Line a jellyroll pan with parchment paper, buttering the paper.  Place the reserved cake layer on the paper and score the cake into 6 equal-sized wedges.  Lightly oil a thin, sharp knife and a small offset spatula. 

Stir the sugar, water and lemon juice in a small saucepan, bringing it to a boil over medium heat, stirring often to dissolve the sugar.  Once a smooth syrup has developed, turn the heat up to high and boil WITHOUT STIRRING, swirling your pan by the handle occasionally, and washing down any sugar crystals that may be collecting on the sides of the pan (use a wet pastry brush until the syrup has turned into an amber-looking caramel). 

The top layer

is perhaps the most difficult aspect of this entire recipe.  Be prepared with an oiled (buttered) spatula and scoring knife at hand.  Also, we are warned to have our cake layers at room temp.  A cold layer could seize our caramel before we ever have the chance to spread it!

The recipe will provide more than an ample amount of caramel for your one (or two cakes), and, therefore plan to create a few caramel coated nuts or other miscellaneous deco’s for your cake with the excess.

Once caramel is ready to spread, work quickly AND safely.  I found that by pouring the caramel atop a scored layer I could manage it a bit better than if I had tried using a spoon to coat the cake/nuts.  Whichever method you choose, be careful:

THIS MASS IS EXTREMELY HOT AND YOUR WORKING TIME FOR PLIABLE CONSISTENCY IS MINIMAL.

…..

Oh goody!  It’s time to make caramel and redecorate the kitchen surface(s):

 …..

That girl is pretty, even if I don’t own a saw strong enough to slice her.  (Oh, wait a minute, I forgot I own a chainsaw….I’ll be right back):

…..

Candied hazelnuts:

…..

 No matter how I tried to shoot it, these little ladies were fed up with me and wanted nothing more than to be free of the wild woman attempting their capture:

Assembly of the Dobos Torta:

The Dobos Torta is generally a five-layer sponge cake (I simply can’t keep track when assembling…oops!),  filled with a decadent chocolate buttercream and topped with thin wedges of caramel (if you’re lucky… ;) ). 

Gather your baked sponges and begin icing them by spreading a dab of chocolate buttercream on the middle of each layer.  Spread evenly using an offset spatula to coat an even layer of butter-cream.  Stack each layer atop one another until you have completed five iced layers.  Next, spread a layer of buttercream on the sides of the assembled torte and smooth evenly.  You can also press chopped hazelnuts into the sides for added decoration.  Use unchopped hazelnuts to place wedges of caramel atop the torte, fashioning each wedge at an angle, ending with a sproke pattern upon completion.  Refrigerate your cake under a cake dome until the icing is set.  This should take about two hours.  Prepare tortes for your enjoyment by allowing them to come to room temperature.  This allows for optimum flavor. 

…..

Layered  and ready to munch….darn, I’m on that danged diet!  :(   sniff, sniff, sniff.  Hubby reports that it’s scrumptious.  Does that count?  ;)

A special thank-you to Rick Rodgers for his amazing book:  Kaffehaus

(http://search.barnesandnoble.com/KaffeeHaus/Rick-Rodgers/e/9780609604533/?itm=1&usri=1).