Today consumers are looking for quick and easy ways to prepare baked goods, which is why we set out to simplify the art of cake making, while preserving the “scratch made” flavor.
Sweet Neecy has included in each of our batter mixes all that is needed as a base for preparing homemade cakes. Enjoy!
Oh boy did I have an appetite for destruction last night. Tired off my ass, and I mean so tired that I almost didn’t leave my hotel room (then remembered that eating one small sandwich all day long and having walked 10k+ wasn’t healthy and consequently nearly fell asleep several times over dinner) — I ordered the only thing on the menu that would send every foreign tourist running for the hills — “Pieds et Paquets.”
Pieds et paquets translates as “feet and packages.” Yes. You heard that right. Even the “packages,” part. The dish consists of sheep tripe folded into elegant little objects much resembling large tortellini stuffed with herbed breading, as well as sheep feet (bent ankle bone and all the stuff further south), slow cooked in a very lovely savory sauce which I’m told is based on white wine.
I don’t know how I did it. I really don’t. That’s not to say it wasn’t delicious. It was. I eat strange things. All the time. I think it’s exciting and makes life more interesting to take risks like this. But when you think you’re coming down with a cold and feel weak and haven’t slept in two days and are not really convinced you’re hungry in the first place, this could have been a disastrous mistake.
Thankfully it wasn’t. I don’t know if any of you dear, dear phantoms of readers have ever experienced this before, but I’m going to try to describe the sensation of what I was going through. My brain and body were in a battle from the moment the covered silver platter was set down beside me, and a deep elegant ceramic bowl was placed in front of me. See, I really wasn’t sure what I was going to get. Didn’t know how it would look or smell or anything. I did have an inkling of what the texture would be like, having eaten tripe many times before. But not sheep. And not in this manner. And certainly not in my vulnerable physical condition. The word I would use for the entire experience would be “musky.” For some that’s great. For others it’s sickening. It was gamey and gooey and chewy. And the whole time I cut apart my first piece, the musky gamey smell wafting up into my nose, I was fighting nausea. Not a strong nausea. But a tiny persistent, “ah, you there, ya you…are you quite sure that’s such a good idea…” kinda nausea. Some people would have listened to that little voice. But not me. And in the end, as I didn’t get sick, slept very well through the night, and feel better than ever today, I’m very glad I didn’t.
Most of you will never want to eat tripe, especially not sheep tripe rolled into big meatball-sized bread-filled bundles and stewed with its relation, the foot (which by the way, is all fat and skin and cartilage with hardly a trace of muscle). Hopefully, though, I’ve now communicated that it cannot and will not kill you, and if you can get over the musky smell and uber-strange texture so common to offal, you may enjoy it, and it may in fact cure your weary body and send it on its healthy way.
Anyway, I just got to Avignon. Again exhausted, but not quite so much as in Marseille. And instead of a steep 2-story walk-up with super-heavy luggage, I had a 4-story walk-up with heavier luggage (thanks to a chance encounter with an H&M yesterday and an adventure in an immigrant-filled market this morning).
The town is gorgeous, and it’s so sunny, it really does look like an impressionist painting or a post card. I’ll have a gander as soon as I rest my weary head for a spot and consider showering off the accumulating sweat. Yes. I just said accumulating sweat.
Cheerio! Or rather, A bientot!
And if you ever want to try making your own paquets…
Made another nice red thai chicken curry last night – I think adding grated ginger to it really adds an extra dimension of flavour. Very pleased with the Trident light coconut milk. Other light coconut milks I’ve tried haven’t tasted very good, this one is fine.
Its been a week of racing around a bit. Yesterday went to a graduation ceremony and after that I managed to a) put some shoes on layby b) get some cosmetics I needed from Farmers and c) get secret santa presents courtesy of Trade Aid.
The weather is still shite. Very windy last night and a bit cool. Blustery and trying to pee down today. I have already been out – rushed out to Mitre 10 to make use of their coupons. I got a 3 piece small table and chair set, 15% off. Lets hope there is some fine weather to use it. I have spent too much money lately and need to reign in a bit. At least the WOF was only about $60, so guess that is why I am thinking I have a few extra $$ to spend.
Well now I think I have to catch up on the washing and tidy up the place. Also need to continue the bread making experiments. Failures last weekend, will see if it is definitely the yeast today.
It has occurred to me what Thanksgiving really needs to be the perfect holiday. While the holiday is a fantastic time for being thankful, the one thing I would be very thankful for is a morning after pill. Not just any morning after pill, but one that automatically makes you lose all the pounds you pack on during the holiday feasting. A bonus feature would be giving you the ability to clean the kitchen in two seconds flat after all that cooking. That would be my morning after Thanksgiving pill. While I did not go over board with the feast I prepared for my family and neighbors, I feel like I will have to do a week of hard running to keep my petite frame in check. We had a 10 pound goose, deviled eggs with tomatoes, cornbread stuffing with apples and pecans, goose gravy, white wine, and apple crumble that my neighbors were so nice to bring. The four kids ate, watched Peter Pan a million times, and went upstairs to have a plastic ball war (with all the plastic balls we have we should make a giant ball pit in the yard). Markus (my husband) and Markus (Angie’s husband) talked about airports while Angie and I talked about cooking and Christmas decorations. Luckily my dishwasher was empty so all plates and such got washed immediately and all I had to do was put away leftovers.
At the end of the night I decided I was very thankful that Angie loaned me her meat thermometer and brought dessert. Markus was thankful that I actually decided I like goose, because it is hard on him that I hate duck. Mary was thankful that Alex did not destroy the house and she did not have to chase him screaming “No!” Alex was thankful that Mary was not screaming and that he had more people to climb on. He also appreciated having a plate containing only meat and no veggies to contaminate it. Little sweet Analena was thankful that Mary had horses to play with, while Cedrick was just thankful that we had Peter Pan in German so he could understand it. It was my first Thanksgiving with my husband and children, and also my first Thanksgiving since I moved to Germany. Despite the four hours constantly on my feet cooking in a very hot kitchen I really enjoyed it. It was an experience that I hope to repeat next year.
Needless to say, it was not as stressful as I envisioned it to be. The kids behaved rather well, the food was great, and we all went to bed with full stomachs and no allergic reactions in sight. That is something to be really thankful for which brings me to my next point. When cooking for others, Thanksgiving or not, it is always best to call the person and ask if they or anyone in their family has any food allergies. This will save you a trip to the hospital and a lot of guilt over poisoning the guests. I hope that you all had a fantastic Thanksgiving and that you all have a safe Black Friday. Please try to avoid being trampled in the stores today. One final note, Happy Birthday Grace! My little sister’s birthday is today and while I can’t be with her to celebrate I shall drink some rum (her favorite) tonight in celebration. I hope that you and Win have fun today going out and that no one steps on either of you if she ends up taking you to Wal-Mart. Happy Birthday and I miss and love you very much Grace!
I was looking for a new recipe for dessert this Thanksgiving.
I came across this one, which I have tweaked a bit.
It is like those “Dump Cakes” of the 1970’s. I have the one in the oven right now. Wish you could smell it baking
Pumpkin Dump Cake
1 29 ounce can Libby’s canned pumpkin
1 box yellow cake mix, any brand
1 cup melted butter
Prepare the pumpkin according to label instructions, using only one can of evaporated milk. I also used only 1 cup sugar as the cake mix is very sweet. Pour the pumpkin mixture into a greased 13 x 9 pan. I recommend using Baker’s Joy or similar product. Sprinkle the dry cake mix evenly over the top of the pumpkin mixture, then carefully drizzle the melted butter over the cake mix.
You can sprinkle with 1 cup chopped nuts if you wish, but our extended family is crazy enough already.
Bake at 325 for 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 hours. When completely cooled top servings with real whipped cream. Refrigerate any leftovers….what leftovers?
When I serve this, I will warm it up slightly, I think it is better slightly warmed.
Its name is Easy Cherry Dessert, and it comes from a very special cookbook in my collection.
After my grandmother died, I was allowed to go through her house to see if there were any things I would like before her estate was dismantled. In one of the cabinets was a large pile of newspaper clippings and what appeared to be random papers. I noticed that many clippings had recipes on them, so I stuffed the whole pile into a grocery bag and took it home.
Sorting through this pile of recipe clippings spanning thirty or forty years, I noticed colored sheets of paper that were all the same size. They turned out to be what remained of a recipe book so thoroughly used that it had simply fallen to pieces. I discovered the Index page and used it to organize the pages. What I ended up with is the cookbook shown here.
It has no organization name on it, but I assume that it was produced by Grandma’s church, Beaverdam Reformed Church in Beaverdam (Zeeland), Michigan. The cookbook contains the usual variety of home recipes found in such fundraiser publications. Favorite cookies, favorite pies, casserole dishes, and jell-O molds march through its pages, each with the contributor’s name dutifully listed below it.
What makes this book special to me is that it was used beyond all recognition even as a book. Even in tatters, it was saved and used. This book, to me, is infused with Grandma’s cooking prowess. Its dilapidated state is a witness to its earnest use.
And so I shall share it with you, Dear Readers.
A few notes on this recipe:
Thank you cherry pie filling is a brand, and its being listed merely indicates that it is meant to be cherry pie filling, not canned cherries. Also, Jiffy is a brand of baking mixes, notable in that their cake mixes are half the size of a normal mix. Therefore, if you decide to make this recipe and do not have Jiffy cake mix where you live, either use half a regular box of cake mix or use two cans of cherry pie filling in a 9×13″ cake pan and use the whole box on top.
1/4lb. of butter (or margarine) is one stick. (I use butter when I bake. Always.) If you decide to use margarine, never, ever bake with light margarine. The margarine is whipped with water to bulk it up, and your baked goods will turn out soggy. Very sad.
Although it says in the recipe to bake for about 45 minutes at 350F, mine took considerably less time to bake, more like 25-30 minutes. This is something to watch in these church cookbooks and handwritten recipe cards. Older ovens tend to cook more slowly. They run out of oomph, so what a cook thinks is 350F may actually be closer to 325F. So keep an eye on your cooking when making heirloom recipes.
This dessert turns out to be very rich, which should be no surprise, since it contains a stick of butter. Small servings work out quite well when accompanied by whipped cream, ice cream, or coffee.
I have just recently been thinking about my supply and what to do and so on. … I know that community will evolve in my town, what worries me about that is the religious lunatics that will make us a danger to our survival. … i don’t own a gun, being 14 and with a mother who dosen’t trust me with one. I have two dogs, one that will probably become food when rations get low, and one that will help with hunting and scavenging…. Also, my neighbor closest to me is a firefighter, he has several safes with ALOT of guns and ammo, so looting his house is a definite possibility. I do not plan on staying in my house, i have considered barricading in my high school, and going to the band room, only room with two exits, and only room that you can go out the window and on to the roof…. Thank you, Rebel
Thanks for the letter Rebel, you ask some good questions about surviving the Apocalypse, but the one I had not thought of before was, “What do I do if I’m 14!”
The first rule of Surviving the Apocalypse is to get out of urban areas. You’re right, there will be crazies and you’re not going to want to hang around to see what crazy cults they form. The problem is, your mom’s got the car keys and she won’t pack you a bag lunch.
Your parents are going to have you on a tight leash and if they don’t head out of town, you probably should bunker down somewhere. Your band room sounds fine, but think about more than fortifications. Does it have access to water? Can you get rid of your shit and piss? Will you be able to build a fire in there to cook? How many rations can you carry? Think about how you’re going to stay alive. If you’re going to survive this thing it’s because you outlasted the zealots. Remember, in a global apocalypse, 50% of people will die within the first month, most from hunger.
Sorry to hear about the gun situation too. I can’t say I blame her for not trusting you, you’re already dreaming up how to eat your dog. Too bad though, because it’ll be hard to protect yourself in that band room with a saxophone. I’m not going to recommend taking anything from your neighbor either, that’s up to you. You can save up and buy one, or hey, put it on your Christmas list! Just don’t shoot your eye out kid.
Last week I was fighting off a bug or something and feeling like junk, it’s weird but it seems to take more out of me to fight off a virus than to actually get sick with one. Just one of many joys that go along with an abhorrently malfunctioning immune system. I had sporadic fevers, sore ears, sore throat, sore tonsil and generally ached all over. By Wednesday I think the virus was winning and my body actually needed to shut down all ‘elective’ activities in order to keep fighting. In other words, I spent more time asleep than awake for about 36 hours. Wednesday went:
6:30 press snooze
6:40 press snooze
6:50 press snooze
7:00 press snooze
7:10 haul lifeless body into upright position and proceed with school morning routine
8:15 walk children to school
8:45 die a little bit, sleep
10ish do a load of washing, hang it, sleep
12ish eat a piece of food, do another load of washing, hang it, sleep
2:30 repeat hauling of body into upright position in order to pick children up
3:30 sleep
And so on and so forth. Fortunately I’d been given the week off from (prac)work, though I had planned to go in on Friday, just cause I’m a sucker for working for no pay and surrounding myself with noisy nine-year olds whom I adore and despise in equal measures.
THURSDAY
By Thursday though, I was in full fledged run-away-from-home mode and upon hearing that Titch’s all-important Friday swimming lesson was cancelled and that an epic outbreak of whooping cough had gripped the entire Year one community, I was ready to follow through and do a runner. I had planned to catch the train to the city Saturday morning anyways, so why not go a day early and have extra time to laze by the pool and reprimand ‘trusty’ for failing to notice/care/remember/comprehend that I was sick? I checked with said sidekick and he reported back that he had a work thing on, but that we were welcome to hang out at his place, and so… the great escape was on. To follow came a frantic house-clean, find cat sitter and bag-pack x3 which put a fairly large dent in the romanticism of the whole running away thing, but hey, I like to be organised. All this happened as surreptitiously as possible because having a day off school and catching the train to the city was to be a Great Fantastical Surprise for the children. Thursday afternoon I bribed them into joining the frenzied house-clean by promising to reveal a special clue to the great fantastical surprise (shut up, I’m reading the Da Vinci Code ok?) which worked a treat. The first clue was that they needed to go to bed early and have a big sleep, as they would need to do some special training before they could have the surprise! Titch was all into it, and went off to bed wondering what sort of training was involved and how on earth she could fit it in with a hectic full day of school ahead. Lil was off in Laa-Laa-Land, oblivious to the whole secret-clue-fantastical-surprise scenario. Sometimes it’s best just to keep things simple and not overload her mind or mess with her routine.
FRIDAY
Friday morning I woke at 4 and woke the children at 4:30. I mysteriously whispered… The second clue is – you must rise with the sun” Titch was tickled pink with the elusiveness of it all, while Lil sat up sleepily and said “what clues?” Titch explained all and Lil said right away – “oh, easy, we’re going on the train. We’re up early and there is special ‘training’ –get it?’ That girl surprises me sometimes. They both really enjoyed being up so early and seeing their first ever sunrise though. The train trip went very well and both girls stunned me by insisting on doing school work –it was a school day after all- so I gave them a maths and spelling test each. I tailor made the maths test for each of them, but Titch insisted on choosing the spelling words:
They both were chuffed to get good marks all round, though titch was disappointed with her spelling result – she had used ‘ai’ for the ‘a’ vowel sounds, as in ‘occaision, vacaition’ etc. I explained that it was still an extremely good result for a first grader and that Lil and I both were unsure how to spell oviparous and could she please tell us what it means? – which she did. They then went on to do some reading and some drawing with Lil also practising her German very loudly, trying to impress the bi-lingual-tourist-children who boarded the train and sat opposite. Titch has been picking up german from Lil and finds it all slightly amusing (who can blame her?) She set about drawing ‘Opa’s and Oma’s’ –that’s grandfathers and grandmothers in german, but to her also just very amusing words. Her Opa’s and Oma’s are strange objects with very unusual names such as Figureins, Cokstump and Rampst. (I caught myself this morning cursing ebay and calling it a cokstump under my breath)
On arrival, I immediately realised we could never make it to sidekick’s office before his morning meeting and would have to amuse ourselves in the city for a bit – hotcakes, hashbrowns and shopping ensued! Do you know how much fun it is to put an 11 year old in time out in the middle of a city department store? The answer is lots. Titch is a bit of nuisance to shop with, mostly because she hates it, but Lil is infuriating! I know it’s her aspieness that causes her brain to overload with stimuli rendering her incapable of rational thought, but really, at 11 I do expect her to be able to #1 listen and #2 stay with me. The time out came after the third major losing-child incident (she was off trying on shoes in the ladies department and completely oblivious to the fact that she was no longer with me) She also incurred a time out in department store no.2 during which an elderly woman bent down to look at something and farted both noisily and smell-ily in Lil’s general direction, at which point I decided her karma was taken care of and let her up.
finally, we met the sidekick at his office to get the keys and go home to commence the pool-lazing. This is when I discovered that his after-work-do was actually an after-lunch-do and, although it would still involve boozing, he might be home at the regular time or even earlier, which would be nice. We talked dinner and went our separate ways …… (insert that horror-movie music which suggests that everything is about to go very badly for the characters involved though they don’t realise it yet, like instead of fleeing the haunted house they are climbing the stairs to the attic thereby trapping themselves and allowing all manner of horror to arise in the foreseeable future)
We lunched, rested, and pool lazed in that order. Which was nice:) NEWSFLASH – titch can swim!! She has had two lessons so far at school and this was my first chance to witness her expertise as she doggy-paddled the width of the pool with minimal drowning. I’m tempted to upload video but also painfully aware that no one finds it as exciting and tear jerking as mama.
We’d bought a bunch of vegies for dinner (have I mentioned before that my trusty sidekick is also a vege-matarian?) and I got started on a creamy-vegie-cheesy baked concoction that I was sure would be a hit all round. Word came from the man himself at about 5:30 that he would be heading home soon which appealed to my secretly well-hidden housewife-ish side as it meant we could have dinner together like a real life family, put the children to bed and live happily ever after, right?
By 7:30 I was actually a bit worried and in a complete quandary. I couldn’t hold off feeding the starving children any longer, yet ‘trusty’ (the name is wearing thin) wasn’t home. I was fairly certain that his boozy do had been extended, but what if it hadn’t and he’d met with foul play on the way home? What to do – phone him during the boozery to ask where he was and when he was coming home, therefore labelling myself forever more as the nagging girlfriend? Or just wait and see…risking his certain death as he lay bleeding and broken in the gutter somewhere? Amidst all this, his mother called (I only answered the phone thinking it would be the police or hospital or something equally dramatic) she rattled my already rattled nerves by 1.forgetting my name, 2.assuming I would be at lunch on Sunday, 3.giving me a message to pass on to trusty and insisting that I get him to call her back when he got home to make sure I had given him the message and 4.asking me where he was, what time he would be home and doing a motherly ‘hmmm…I see’ at my ignorance.
I decided that if he were not home by 8, I would swallow my pride and phone – better to sound like a nagging girlfriend than to let him die in the gutter, right? …right? as per usual (we’re weird like this) a message arrived just as I picked up my phone – he was leaving now. So by 8:30 I had the children tucked into bed, all fed, and was reading them a bedtime story as the man walked in, fly undone! and very ‘merry’ to say the least, stinking of beer and promptly lay down to pass out to my bedtime story.
Once the children were off to sleep, we went upstairs to fight. (which, might I add, neither of us really knows how to do and usually involves some quiet mis-communication whilst cuddling in which nothing is resolved)
I must say, I’m still struggling with this one. (I’ve admitted before I’m useless at relationships and have no idea how they work or how to drive one) Struggling because…
1. I’ve had years of experience in phone counselling with nameless others who were left at home wondering where on earth their man was and my advice was always generally of the ‘don’t put up with that shite’ variation with suggestions of cruel and unusual punishments for the men involved when they finally bothered to show their faces.
2. Sidekick himself has previously agreed with me that the above scenario was ‘not on’ and that the women involved should put their tiny foots down.
3. The mere fact that he would put his own and his booze-colleagues needs before mine gives me the heebie-bajeebies and my gut instinct is to RUN! I mean, really, is it so difficult to pick up the phone and say ‘I won’t be home for a while yet, I’ve been coerced into some further boozery’? After all, I wasn’t upset that he was out in the first place, just that he didn’t show up when he said he would, leaving me in a difficult position and feeling like an idiot.
4. I’m outraged to discover that the boozery involved a conversation along the lines of “im so in trouble with the wife/girlfriend for this, I’m sleeping on the couch tonight for sure” which the man himself seemed to find incredibly amusing. WHAT? so I get pegged as the nagging girlfriend whether I nag or not – that hardly seems fair. Being single is starting to look oh so attractive again. I’m not sure if sidekick thought
a) that it was fun to be in a nifty club where you get into so much trouble for this
b) that it was no big deal to leave me wondering for hours
c) that phoning me might result in copping a proper nagging
d) all of the above OR
e) nothing at all which I know his mind is quite capable of -for he would have to think beyond his own immediate wants and needs in order to contemplate what I might be feeling.
5. This is more proof for my ongoing hypothesis that Sidekick has a ‘hierarchy of importance’ when it comes to people. In the grand scheme of things I generally come somewhere down the list from family members, acquaintances and work colleagues and generally anything I say or suggest is questionable until checked with a ‘more reliable source’. Therefore some drunken arm-twisting work buddies rank higher than me in the grand scheme of things despite the fact that I was at that very point in time at his home, mopping his kitchen floor, cooking a lovely cheesy-dinner and, might I add, wearing some very nice underthings and all whilst NOT WANTING TO INTERRUPT HIS BOOZE TIME WITH ANY AMOUNT OF CHECKING-UP ON OR NAGGING!
Do I scream DOORMAT or what?
because afterall, I was in town for a fun weekend and it’s a bit difficult to have fun whilst being upset, nagging, bitching, and wanting to kill the entire male species for their drunken-stoopid-aspiness-inspired misfortunes. So I let it slide eventually after realising that the man was just not comprehending. Add to that his drunken bedroom faux pas and you might begin to understand that the rest of the weekend was enjoyed (tolerated) through gritted teeth. I’m no longer sure which one of us I hate more.
SATURDAY
Sidekick, sporting another brand shiny new hangover must pick up his offspring. (have I given her a name yet?? –she shall be munky) this involves a bit of a drive which I had sworn to myself during the night, the girls and I would not take part in due to the man needing to be punished in any way possible. So, we went with to keep him company. (doormat!) Back home, now with munky in tow, we were free once more to pool laze and relax all to our little hearts content. Which was nice. Saturday night was taco’s, the robots movie and bed which all went to plan with minimum fuss, despite my children being absolutely foul after their whole rising-with-the-sun experience previously. They had not only been arguing regularly throughout the day, but also arguing about arguing and who started the arguing and who wanted to stop the arguing but couldn’t, because the other party insisted on arguing with them. Later, I forced sidekick to stay awake and watch a movie with me as part of his furthering punishment. There was another bedroom faux pas, this one I’m certain he is oblivious to and I didn’t have the energy to not-argue again. Sometimes it’s easier to just roll over and go to sleep to dream magical dreams about magical men possessing wonderful skills of thought, care, manners and proper training
SUNDAY
More pool and then Lunch with the out-laws. And I call them the outlaws because they are not In-laws, not because they are interesting renegade-types or anything. Sister, brother-in-law, Crayon and Bobs (as my children have delightfully named them) Me, Trusty and the 3 chicks all together like one big happy family at an all-you-can-eat chain restaurant. Can you just hear my teeth grinding with absolute joy and rapture? It’s no secret that I’m a recluse and socially retarded at the best of times, but Sunday I was socially retarded at the worst of times. Due to aforementioned late nights / early mornings, some devouring of foods on my banned list, post-exertional malaise and whatever the heck else my body wanted to throw at me, I was feeling spooty to say the least. I know I have spoken ad nauseam about the effects of my said illnesses so I’ll try to wrap it up neatly in one little sentence for you in case you’re new – having any sort of fun, eating nice foods, and doing just about anything slightly physical leaves me feeling exhausted, sick, in pain and brain dead. Think of it as my brain and body shutting down and conserving all available energy for just the basics – breathing, heart beating etc. everything else becomes seemingly impossible. (ok so that was more than one sentence but, screw you, it’s my blog)
Needless to say, I sat at lunch feeling about as witty and talkative as a lump of play-dough. That and the fact that my entire appetite has recently disappeared altogether made me look like a real sulky party-pooper for sure. Usually I can pretend to be chatty and interesting, but this time I just didn’t have the energy. To top it off, Crayon sat between me and the children so I couldn’t quietly threaten to kill them every time they misbehaved or ate with their fingers, I had to get up out of my seat to do it – how tiring. And then Bobs stirred the children up causing them to misbehave further, their poorly formed minds not yet understanding that not all adults are good role models for civility and proper manners. Poking each other in the ribs is not my idea of fun. I’m not a huge fan of being touched by people that I don’t love dearly or at least know well. Not that I have anything against Crayon – she just reminds me enormously of a mother out-law I had previously, same mannerisms, speech, brrr it gives me chills of the bad sort. and I don’t want her to poke me in the ribs again. Ever. Bobs on the other hand gives me the straight up creeps, and I’m not ashamed to say it. I’m a big advocate for not trusting anyone until they’ve completely and utterly proven themselves and that comes from experience, mostly bad experience. Bobs is very hands-on with the children which to the outsider looks like fun and games, but to me (the highly cynical, suspicious and overly analytical), that sort of pushing, poking, tickling, touching looks very much like the sort that exists between twelve year old boys and girls. I’d just much rather that strangers didn’t touch my children, is that too much to ask?
Sunday afternoon … back to the pool I didn’t swim this time as I was concentrating very hard on being alive. I was having what I refer to fondly as a ‘bad day’ when my symptoms are a bit nasty and every movement and thought takes so much energy. It is very difficult to process thoughts, to make a thought actually come out as speech or to move, it really does feel as though my body is shutting down. I’m alive on the inside, but outside I look tired if not asleep, move sluggishly, feel faint and can’t think straight. It hurts and feels quite stupid too. I kept assuring the sidekick that I was ok, probably because
I know he sticks his fingers in his ears and goes la-la-la if I say I feel sick and
I couldn’t put into words how I was feeling even if I tried
After returning to the apartment, I took nurofen (mmm ibuprofen:) for the pain in order to survive the train trip home in relative peace. Titchy fell right to sleep on the train after eating her sandwiches (trusty made us sandwiches, reclaiming precious lost points, love and affection) I dozed on and off most of the way home too, Lil on the other hand did – her – homework – my jaw is still dropping in amazement. Those kids had such a busy weekend, so much swimming and Lil ‘n’ Munky were up really late Saturday night watching a movie, I really expected her to crash. she does have that whole aspie-anxiety thing though with a tremendous fear of getting into trouble in school. And this wasn’t any ordinary homework, it was the procedural text for her end of year assignment (I know, full on for year 6 huh?) I set her up on the lap top and dozed while she slowly one-finger-typed away. Now here’s the truly amazing bit cause I think that maybe she is secretly being one of those savant–type aspies! Lil’s assignment was to plan and build a simple machine, keeping a journal along the way then to present the machine and the procedural text on the due date. Her machine was built, but the journal was at home while we were on the train till 9 at night and she had to write up the procedural text from memory. I plugged in the lap top this morning to see if I could fix it up a bit for her, make it passable and lo-and-behold – it was freaking perfect! she had written it up word for word from her journal, steps 1thru18 of exactly how to build this machine and even with precise measurements – you will need two pieces of dowel 16cm long, a small block of wood 13×5cm, a longer plank measuring….and on and on and on it went!! although she’d left it till the last minute, I’m extremely impressed at her genious-ness and if she does not receive an A I shall boycott the whole entire school system and fire-bomb something innocuous.
So…this brings us to the here and now…
MONDAY
it was a weary start this morning after a busy weekend of swimming, lazing, arguing and brooding. My intestines are protesting my ill-treatment of them over the weekend. Did I ever tell you that Thyroid disease and IBS like to hold hands and play together? probably not, it’s not the sort of thing nice girls talk about. It is sad but true though. I am also still having a spooty-symptom-competition raging within me with weak legs being the odds-on favourite so far. I’m back on the coffee – I figured I’d done so much damage already that one little coffee wouldn’t hurt right? Turns out it was the straw that broke the camels back, so to speak, or the camels bowel. It was purely an impudent act of rebellion and self-harm, me being too gutless and/or lazy to kill myself, get a tattoo, take up smoking, get rolling drunk etc. coffee seemed just the right amount of mutiny and self-depreciation. I’m also still wondering today if the Trusty sidekick deserves more in the way of punishments for not properly denouncing his own poor form and have spent some of my time pondering the dire conclusion that the more time we spend together, the more sure I am that we shouldn’t live together. Fatalities may eventuate. Besides, his snippy remark about me leaving the wardrobe door open set us back years. Monday morning breakfast was spent fantasizing about making him go into work wearing a t-shirt reading
WOULD IT HAVE KILLED ME TO MAKE A PHONE CALL?
…for all to see.
btw, it may seem sad to some that I so openly reprimand the poor defenceless little sidekick here, for all the world (or 19 regulars and various drop-ins) to read. But really, when you think about it –as I have, I am doing him a favour. Instead of bitching and moaning in his ear, complaining and scheduling relentless grown-up talks about our relationship, I simply come here and purge all of my negative feelings and inner turmoil, vomiting my rage in a torrent of words and saving him from being bombarded with tears, talk and punching. You see I am very thoughtful – I’ll have you know I even gave trusty a very super-nice present on the weekend (despite his lack of due care and attention towards me) scrunched up in a brown paper bag on which I wrote “Dear trusty, you truly are the worstest boyfriend a girl could ever want etc etc etc, All my love, M.” see – I truthfully am a loving and caring human being.
Now, In good news…..
My ‘teamwork’ assignment came back today and I passed! I’ve passed everything else so far, but this one in particular had me nervous – what the frick do I know about teamwork and working well with others? I’m a grumpy emotional engineer who just doesn’t like many people and can’t tolerate pointless small talk. This assignment was difficult for me to write because I just couldn’t get into the flow of essay writing with the subject matter, yet found point-form information too restrictive. The result? –I wrote it ‘me’ style as in, me-writing-in-my-blog style! I sent it off very nervously, wondering if I would fail for being openly weird or insane, sure that at the very least there would be notes made about my use of ‘humour’ innuendo, glib sarcasm, frivolous self-depreciation, and that my writing ‘style’ might easily be mistaken for being cheeky or not taking things seriously, y’know, teamwork in the education field and all that jazz
I opened the envelope and saw the ‘J’ on the front page –phew! -a pass. The comment sheet said ‘please read page 6-7’ though which made my stomach immediately begin to churn and I nearly sharted with worry as I cringed at the thought of what said comments may contain in the way of chastisement and correction.
So, here’s the kicker – not only did I pass, I got ticks, multiple double ticks, a smiley face and assorted positive feedback!! the whole paragraph of comments which threatened to make me vomit, was actually all positive AND – I shit you not – contained such colourful praise as “great attitude”, “fabulous example “, “I really enjoy your writing”, “obvious and thorough understanding” and… wait for it … “you really made my day!” Woo-fricking-hoo!! I am so pleased that I am passing my subjects whilst simultaneously entertaining my tutors!
I shall leave you on that note, like a man out on a boozy work do, i leave you wondering when oh when i shall return…..
For the second time this year, I have vacationed in a manner involving one-on-one time with Little Guy and socializing time with family during the evenings and weekend. I find this kind of vacationing more therapeutic and soothing, as opposed to having a vacation jam-packed with activities daily. Can you imagine Disneyland? I can’t. So, Little Guy and I are just hanging out in new territory and walking a lot.
I have had the time to feel solitary sadness over Ex, pity for Little Guy (not my proudest moment), and celebration for Ex. I know he’s happier now than he was on this plane. I never have to think again, ‘Has he really done it this time?’ I’m relieved to let that worry go and to have the time to focus on one feeling at a time. Yeah, I’m still mad and resentful sometimes, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
On this vacation, Little Guy has gotten to know Sid and Scott well enough that he hugs them both. Yesterday morning, when I got up, Little Guy was sitting on Scott’s lap talking to him with his head his chest. I’m also grateful that I have a delightful kid, who has bonded with Sid and Scott as well as they with him.
Little Guy has tried lots of new foods here, like Persian chicken and beef, Chinese spaghetti (chow mein), jasmine tea, fresh spring rolls, and grilled beef steak. I have a rule about dinner: Eat it or don’t! (We told Little Guy that the Persian meats were elk-chicken and elk-beef to get him to try them. He talked a lot about liking to eat elk when we first arrived. Y&H had shot one the Thursday before we left and brought a steak over for dinner that Saturday.)
Scott cooks a lot and with variety. It’s made me realize how little I have expanded my recipes in the last year. Of course, we’ve kind of been living in temporary situations.
Before I left Ex, I cooked dinner every night. I cooked something different every night because Ex wouldn’t eat leftovers. I meal-planned every week. When I moved out, I let my culinary skills rest on the back burner. It was hard to cook using the roommates’ pots and pans. And the roommates were vegetarians.
I’ll finish moving into my new house when I get back from vacation next week. I’m looking forward getting back to my meal-planning self. Since Ex’s stuff is all Little Guy’s stuff, and he won’t use a KitchenAid or any Calphalon cookware for many more years, I have a kitchen with every gadget I could ever need, and few that I don’t, ready for me to start making new creations and keep Little Guy (and me) trying new things.
Due to heavy rains during the harvest of pumpkins in Illinois, Nestle said growers have been prevented from picking the entire crop. As a result, less pumpkin has been harvested and canned to be sold for pie-making. This may lead to a shortage of Libby’s Canned Pumpkin.
But don’t despair if your store is out- you can cook your own pumpkin for Thanksgiving pies! And it’s so easy. Here in Ohio at least, there was a huge crop of pumpkins that are still being sold in farmer’s markets and grocery stores. Note that these cooking methods work for any variety of pumpkin or winter squash. Cooking times may be adjusted for the size of your pumpkin/squash. For pumpkin, be sure to use the smaller pie pumpkins instead of the large Jack-O-Lantern size.
Butternut Squash, Long Island Cheese Pumpkin, Ghost Pumpkin
1. Oven Method – Wash pumpkin, cut in half and remove seeds and strings. Heat oven to 400 degrees. Place pumpkin cut side down on baking sheet for 60 – 90 minutes depending on size of pumpkin. To test for doneness, stick a fork in it. It should be very soft. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly so you can handle it. When cool, scrape flesh off rind and process flesh until smooth in a food processor or blender. Use as you would in any recipe, 2 cups of pumpkin = 1 can Libby’s in their standard recipe. This is my favorite method when I have time because it gives a drier result.
2. Microwave Method – Cooking a pumpkin or squash whole is the easy way if your microwave is big enough. Just cut off the stem, poke a few holes in it with a fork and put a dish under it to catch the liquid. For a small microwave, cut in pieces and put in microwave safe dish for cooking. For a small pumpkin or pieces, cook for 15 minutes and test for doneness, again it will be very soft, probably falling in on itself. Let it cool and scrape out the seeds and strings. (For pieces remove the seeds and strings first.) Then scrape out the flesh and process until smooth. Depending on your variety of pumpkin, you may have to let it drain a little bit - just line a collander with coffee filters or a thin cotton dish cloth, dump in the puree and drain until it stops dripping. Again, use in any recipe.
Pie from Long Island Cheese Pumpkin
Click here to read my story about cooking a pie using a Long Island Cheese Pumpkin.
There’s nothing wrong with using canned pumpkin, and I think Libby’s is the best, but if you can’t find it try cooking your own, it makes a delicious dish!
Haven’t done a post on food in a while, but this is one dish people should know about: yakiudon (焼うどん). Most people who know Japanese have eaten yakisoba which is stir-fried soba noodles, but yakiudon is usually not sold in restaurants. It is more like cheap home cooking since udon noodles are very common in Japanese homes. I can’t tell you how many times my wife has cooked this dish when we have leftovers at home, so let me share with you how it’s done. The recipe is almost too simple to be worth posting about, but think of it as “poor man’s Japanese food”.
You need some basic ingredients:
A pack of udon noodles, boiled
Powedered fish stock or dashi.1
Thinly sliced “sukiyaki” pork or whatever meat or meat alternative you might have.
Vegetables, such as carrots, sliced garlic, green beans, mushrooms (crimini, shiitake, shimeji, etc).
The actual recipe is actually very easy. First cook all the vegetables and meat together. Add dashi and season to taste. You can see me doing this here:
While doing this prepare the udon noodles by boiling in a separate pot and then drain the water:
Finally add the noodles to the stir-fry. You’re done!
Try this out and let me know what works. Good luck!
P.S. Taken a few weeks ago while we lived in temporary corporate housing after moving back to the US. Everything you see here came with the apartment as our stuff hadn’t arrived yet.
1 For vegetarians, you may have trouble finding substitutes. I heard you can make dashi by soaking konbu (昆布) seaweed in water overnight, but I couldn’t make it taste good the one time I tried it. Mushroom broth might work well too. Either way, you need something powdery, or at least pretty salty.
Thought I’d post the latest colour run that I did for a swap in my fabric dyeing forum group. The swap was a blue-orange colour run and the colours I choose were ProChem’s Intense Blue and Burnt Orange.
ProChem’s Intense Blue and Burnt Orange.
The idea of this swap was to create browns but as you can see I really only got one brown right next to the burnt orange primary. I’m thinking that the burnt orange is closer to a golden yellow than a strong orange. I really like the blue-green colour that’s next to the intense blue primary.
Here is a picture of the run with the fat eighth parfait I did with the leftover dyes.
Colour run with parfait.
I just mixed up some dried fruit and cherries with brandy to sit over-night. I’ll be making some fruitcakes tomorrow so we’ll see how this turns out. This is one bowl of fruit and I have another bowl that is similar but without the nuts for a different recipe that a friend gave me. I’m hoping these cakes work out as I spent a lot of money buying the ingredients. As is always the case it would have been cheaper to buy the fruitcake but I like my fruitcake without citrus peel so thought I’d give it a try cooking my own.
Mix for fruitcake.
I finally finished the little sweater I was working on for baby Chase but I forgot my camera at home and the pictures I took are on my daughter’s camera. I’ll post a couple of pictures when she sends them to me. The sweater just fit, he’s growing so quickly.
As an occasional treat it is the perfect comfort food for these wet and windy November days
Two Cheese and Onion Tart
Preparation time 10 minutes
Cooking time 30 minutes
Calories per portion 614 Kcal
Fat per portion 41g
of which saturated 20.8g
Serves 2
Suitable for vegetarians + freezing
Ready-rolled puff pastry 1 sheet from a 425g pack
Tomato chutney or ketchup 2 tbsp
Onion 1 small, peeled and thinly sliced
Baby plum or cherry tomatoes 6, halved
Cheddar cheese, Double Gloucester or Red Leicester mixed with a blue cheese like Gorgonzola or Stilton 110g (4oz), cut into cubes
Freshly ground black pepper
Chopped parsley to garnish
1 Preheat the oven to 220°C/425°F/Gas 7. Carefully unroll the whole pack of pastry and put one sheet (measuring 23 x 28cm/9 x 11in) on to a heavy baking sheet. Reroll and re-wrap the other sheet and chill or freeze for later use.
2 With a sharp knife, mark a border about 1.5cm (½in) in from the edge all round and lightly mark it for decoration. With a fork, prick inside the border, to keep the pastry flat while it cooks.
3 Spread the chutney or ketchup inside the border, then scatter the onion slices over the sauce, followed by the cheese cubes and tomato halves. Season with pepper.
4 Bake the tart in the bottom half of the oven for about 30 minutes until the pastry is browned and crispy. Cool for a few minutes and then sprinkle with a little parsley. Serve the tart warm or cold.
Cook’s tip This is easy to assemble and can be left in the fridge, loosely covered with cling film, ready for baking when you want to.
Shopper’s tip
Ready-rolled pastry is a good stand-by as it thaws quickly for a speedy base for savoury and sweet tarts.
Recipe taken from Clever Cooking for One or Two, Dairy Cookbook.
After reading this article, I want to begin avoiding food that comes in cans! Now I am glad I registered for that crock-pot at Target, because soups don’t seem to be that difficult to make–start it in the morning and have it that night, or make a ton and freeze it… this is totally doable!
I have no idea why I have soup on the brain so much right now. I really really want some french onion, complete with the cheesy bread on top, but as I’m at school with no resources I think i’ll go down to Fresh and Easy and get some instant miso. Yayyyy sodium!
Soups to learn to make:
Minestrone (Actually, I’ve got this one covered.)
French onion
Chicken and rice
Black bean and lime (like at the Main St Deli in Mcpherson!)
Broccoli and cheese
Lentil
Butternut squash (a challenge?)
The word itself may be completely bizarro, but as you can see, пельмени is nothing more than a dumpling. The same type of dumplings that you have eaten many times at your Norwegian grandmothers house, or Swedish, or German, or Chinese (but not the delicious looking soup dumplings).
The contents of the dumplings are really basic: 1 part ground beef to 1 part ground pork and then spiced however you like! I diced up about three cloves of garlic, poured in some Worcestershire sauce, some red pepper flakes, salt and pepper then mixed it all together by hand until everything was well incorporated. After which, I placed it back in the refrigerator, covered to work on the pelmeni dough.
In our St. Petersburg cooking class, Chef Tsvetkov Oleg divided the tasks for the pelmeni making by sex: the men did all of the tasks pertaining to meat and mostly dough, whereas we women performed all of the vegetable prep work (for the solyanka). We took a number of breaks throughout our class where Chef encouraged us to take shot after shot of vodka, which we did. So when we returned to the kitchen to work with sharp knives I think I moved slower, not only from the alcohol, but because I was really mesmerized by the way in which Chef was making dumpling dough. He took approximately three cups of all-purpose (I assume) flour, added a pinch of salt for flavor and then eyeballed an amount of oil, vegetable or olive perhaps. He then just kneaded it in a plastic container until it became dough.
I wanted to take the same idea and use it at home. Unfortunately, I was overcome by a simple noodle recipe (though I used All Purpose Flour instead) involving four eggs, went with it, and then ran it through my pasta machine to flatten the dough out to long sheets.
Oddly, this cookie cutter did not suffice. I had to use a drinking glass to cut out the dough and then at times a knife to cut it away and in to rounds. This occurred – I believe – not due to the dough recipe, but due to the fact that I ran the dough through the pasta roller too many times, the dough got pretty tough (as evidenced later when I ate the meal). Curses! So beware…
The rounds weren’t much larger than 2.5″ across.
To seal the pelmeni, I did nothing more than use the tines of a fork; no water, egg wash or other goop to glue it together. The super great thing about pelmeni is that it keeps so well in the freezer. I made up a huge batch of these one afternoon, just in order to have on a rainy/snowy/lazy day, put them on a cookie sheet in a single layer, froze them and then bagged them up before I again threw them in the freezer, just like the Siberians.
On Russian Dinner Night, as we were starting to eat our solyanka, I pulled out a large pot to boil water in. I now realize how lovely it would have been to put some chicken broth in as well. Luckily I still have a gallon bag full of pelmeni in the freezer to try that idea out on.
I boiled them for about 15-20 minutes – because there is frozen, raw meat inside, It is necessary to ensure it’s actually cooked through. After pulling the dumplings out, I poured a bt of live oil on them as well as some salt and pepper. After a quick stir, they were served! Because the soup was so hearty, we needed only a few dumplings to satisfy our need for savory before we had dessert…
I love to cook. I love to eat. Anyone that knows me knows this about me. In another life I would be the next Food Network star, wearing vintage patterned aprons and chatting about organic produce while I braised some fennel. Or something like that. :) As busy as life gets, it is so therapeutic for me to wind down in the kitchen, stirring a pot of tom kha gai or mincing cloves of garlic. I love trying out new recipes, creating my own, and watching the delight on Erik’s face as he bites into something extra delicious. And of course, I love those moments when *I* bite into something and sit there, mid-bite, in awe…shocked that *I* could have made this tasty morsel!!
I experienced one of those fabulous moments last week when I made (for the first time!) this banana cake and passionfruit icing. It all started with these two passion fruits I found at my local market. I happen to LOVE passion fruit-flavored anything, but I had never eaten (or even seen!) a real passion fruit. It was a fairly unattractive thing, all purple and wrinkled (apparently the wrinkles mean the fruit is ripe!), but the sweet perfumed scent of the fruit was intoxicating. It won me over. I put two in my basket with no idea of how I might use them.
After scouring the internet and discovering a dozen recipes I’d never want to make, I read an article about bananas and passion fruit making an excellent flavor pairing. And suddenly, a light went on! I looooove bananas. Banana milkshakes, frozen bananas, deep-fried bananas, banana cream pie! If it has bananas, I’m all about it. Combining two of my favorite fruits of all time into one tasty dessert? brilliant. I set to work to tweak a few recipes I found online for banana cake, and then went to town. The result was phenomenal. Seriously, I’m allowed to say that because I am not suggesting that I am somehow responsible. In some wonderful twist of serendipity, my banana cake with passion fruit icing turned out to be the most delicious cake I’ve consumed in recent memory.
If you like to bake, or if you want to try your hand at it!, give this recipe a whirl and let me know what you think. :)
sweet & simple banana cake
you’ll need…
1 ¼ cup of flour
1 ½ tsp of baking soda
pinch of salt
¼ cup of unsalted butter (softened at room temp. don’t try to cheat and put it in the microwave… it will melt and get gross!)
½ cup of white sugar (i used turbinado sugar)
1/3 cup of brown sugar
1 large egg
2 ripe bananas, mashed
1/3 cup of buttermilk
1/3 cup of walnuts (“optional” — i see them as essential)
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.
Mix the flour, baking soda and salt in a small bowl and set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, mix both types of sugar and softened butter. Cream until well integrated and smooth.
Add egg and mix.
Mix in mashed bananas.
Little by little, add a little of the flour mix, and then a little buttermilk, and then a little flour mix, and then a little buttermilk, until fully incorporated. I like to do three “rounds” of integrating… It’s one of my crazy kitchen tendencies.
Add the walnuts and mix well.
Pour your batter into an 8″ round pan and bake at 350 degrees F for 30 minutes. Check at 20 and 25 minutes just in case… Mine was done in exactly 23 minutes.
While the cake is cooling, make your icing!
tart & juicy passion fruit icing
you’ll need…
one “bar” of cream cheese, softened
½ cup of icing sugar (aka powdered sugar, confectioner’s sugar)
2 ripe passion fruits
Rinse the passion fruits and cut in half. Scoop out all the fragrant pulp and put into a small bowl. Pour all the pulp into a fine mesh strainer and strain out the seeds. Use a spoon (or similar tool) to get every last bit of juice from the seeds. (Note: the seeds are edible but I prefer a smooth, seedless icing.)
Make sure your cream cheese is COMPLETELY softened and at room temp.
Mix the cream cheese, icing sugar, and all the passion fruit juice (your yield will vary depending on the size of the fruit and your elbow grease! ) until smooth and completely integrated.
Taste and add additonal sugar to taste, if necessary. (You will need more sugar if you don’t like a true cream cheese taste to your cream cheese frosting. My passion fruits were soooo ripe and sweet that their flavor took over and I did not need additional sugar.)
Once the banana cake is completely cooled, frost your cake and enjoy! (Note: I like to keep my frosting separate and frost each slice as I consume the cake, little by little. LOL. It keeps my frosting fresh since I knew I wasn’t taking the cake to a party. Nope… I am just eating this cake slice by slice on my own! haha) **Update: the cake is now gone. Come to your own conclusions. :)
The recipe will yield an 8″ round cake, but feel free to double the recipe and make two round 8″ cakes for a layered cake. There is probably plenty of icing for 2 cakes. I like to slather mine on, thankyouverymuch. :)
Hope you all are having a wonderful week! Coming soon: vendor roundup for Jessica & Jeff’s wedding!
P.S. Happy Veterans Day! I am so grateful for the service & sacrifice made every single day by our service men and women. My father is a highly decorated Vietnam War veteran (who served three tours there in the Big Red 1) and he is a true example of an American hero. Love you, daddy.
1) Use real crab if you can instead of the imitation crab. I like a one-to-one ratio of crab to cream cheese.
2) Use Asian wonton wrappers or eggroll wrappers that you can find in the Asian grocery stores or more well-stocked national chains and preferably not the “fake” wonton wrappers in national chain grocery stores in the U.S., which I find gummy and unpalatable.
3) Taste your filling and adjust the seasonings before you stuff. Its flavors should be more pronounced than if you were to eat the filling alone, because it has to add enough taste to “carry” the wonton skin. If the filling tastes bland to you before you fill the wontons, it will definitely taste bland after it’s cooked, so taste, taste, taste. Still not sure? Make a few sample wontons, fry them, and taste the finished product; adjust the seasoning as necessary and check if you’re happy with the amount of filling you have in the wontons. I always do this when I’m making these or Filipino spring rolls. Even though I have to heat up the oil to do a test, it’s completely worth it to me, because I don’t want to invest all the time in making the wontons if they don’t come out tasting great.
4) I used to shape these in the traditional wonton shape, but I now think the simpler, the better. The minimalist triangle shape is actually better for tasting the filling and makes for easier eating of the crispy edges.
5) Use beaten egg white to seal the edges. This is important when frying, because you want a good seal so they don’t open.
6) When you seal the wonton, seal right next to the filling, pushing out any air bubbles. Air bubbles will make your wontons explode when frying, particularly if you are using the thinner wonton wrappers vs. the thicker eggroll wrappers (And I do mean eggroll wrappers vs. spring roll wrappers or rice paper wrappers … I know, it’s confusing.).
7) Freeze your wontons for an hour before frying. Unlike meat or veggie-filled wontons, these wontons have a tendency to explode in the oil because as the cream cheese melts, it releases moisture which turns into steam which then needs to find its way out. Freezing the wontons helps minimize this process. To be extra sure, use eggroll wrappers instead of the wonton skins because they are thicker and will hold up to the steam.
Get a deep fryer which is really convenient, whether you fry a lot or just once in awhile. We have a Delonghi deep fryer. It closes, so you don’t have to worry about spatters and odors. It regulates the temperature, so you don’t need a fry thermometer. The oil can stay in there and be used again (you’ll know when you need to change it if there’s an off odor or it’s really dark in color), so you don’t have to keep looking for a receptacle to store the oil you just used in a pan.
6 oz.-8 oz. jumpo lump crabmeat (fresh preferable (the cheaper claw meat is fine too), but canned, or artificial crab can be substituted)
8 oz. package of cream cheese, softened
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 scallions, finely chopped
2 tsp. soy sauce
A shot of worcestershire sauce or patis (fish sauce)
A shot of tabasco or a sprinkling of cayenne pepper
Squeeze of lemon juice (to taste)
Salt and pepper
1 egg white, beaten
Wonton wrapper package(about 50) or eggroll wrappers (these are bigger in size so when you use them, you have to cut them in 4 smaller squares)
Combine ingredients. Taste and adjust seasonings.
Open wonton package and cover it with a damp paper towel so the wontons don’t dry out. If you’re using egg roll wrappers, cut them horizontally across the middle and vertically down the middle, being as accurate as possible, to make four smaller squares. I usually take a stack of them, fold the top one in half to get a light crease, and then use a knife to cut through the stack along the crease. The stack should be big enough that you can be efficient, but not so big that some of wonton sheets will slide when the knife goes through and creates some wonton sheets that are unevenly cut. Cover with a damp paper towel.
Take a wonton skin and put it on your board. Brush edges with beaten egg white. Put about a teaspoon of filling in the center of the dough. Fold over wonton, so that it looks like a triangle, lining up the edges. Starting from the filling, press the wonton skin together and out toward the egdes, sealing and pushing out any air bubbles while you do this. Set wonton on a non-stick tray (I use a Silpat or non-stick aluminum foil to make sure the wontons don’t stick to the tray) and repeat until done. Do not overstuff, as wontons will open during cooking.
Cover wonton-filled tray(s) with saran wrap and put in the freezer for an hour. If you’re planning to keep them frozen and use at a later date, put them in a plastic zip-top freezer bag after they’ve been flash-frozen on the trays.
Deep fry at 370 degrees until golden brown (a couple minutes). You’ll likely have to turn the wontons over for them to cook evenly. If a wonton starts leaking, turn over the wonton immediately and let it finish cooking with the hole on top.
I just spent an hour reading a Danish girl’s memoirs of her battle with anorexia, bulimia, self injury and all other sorts of shit. Man, that hurt. I almost cried even. It’s very clear from almost the beginning of her book, that she develops an eating disorder because she doesn’t want to grow up – she makes several references to wanting to be taken care of, wanting to be a little girl again, being afraid of “the real world” outside the hospital …
I don’t want to be sick. I am truly grateful that I decided to sign myself into a psychiatric ward when I did, because I don’t believe I would have been here otherwise. I liked it there, because it gave me structure and rules and manageable amounts of responsibility. I didn’t like it because they took care of me or because I didn’t want to become an adult. But on the other hand, here I am on subsidy, doing nothing with my life, angsting for fucking hours because I’m afraid to eat a god damned sandwich. Something is definitely wrong. I wish I knew what it is.
I used to steal a lot. Mostly shoplifting, but I would occasionally swipe money from my mother’s purse as well, and from the grocery store where I worked. I haven’t stolen money in a very long time, and I don’t intend to begin again. Then again, I didn’t intend on beginning to shoplift either.
I stole a dress the other day. Long sleeves, holes on the shoulder, ties with a bow in the back. Really pretty. Just put in on under my regular clothes, paid for a pair of legwarmers at the register and strolled out. My heart raced like a motherfucking old school choo choo train. That was the first time in a long time I’ve stolen clothes. I could never completely stop nicking small things, like jewelry and socks, but I honestly didn’t think I would steal clothes again … Today I stole a broche and a pair of lace gloves from H&M. I don’t even know if I am going to wear the gloves at all. I would never have bought them. I just took them with me into the changing room, pulled off the tag, and put them in my hat. Winter is great for shoplifting. I’ve never seen or heard of a security guard checking hats or gloves for stolen items. There’s a tip for you right there.
I think I might be addicted to it. Not the adrenaline rush, because I really only get scared, not high or excited … but to getting new things. If I had the money (and was raised by a very different woman) I would probably have been a shopaholic fo sho.
I’m bored and lonely. Whenever I’m bored, I get hungry. It’s a son of a bitch. I know I haven’t overeaten today or anything, but I am still deathly afraid of putting food in my mouth this late at night (it’s almost ten pm).
Today’s intake:
Apple on the way home from therapy
Muesli bar
1 deciliter of pasta with 100 grams of chicken and some arugula
Paula Deane had returned to Emerald Harbour after twenty years. Years past, she had been a chef in training. The day of the disaster, she had been in Sim City doing a cooking demonstration. She of course was not allowed to return once the town was evacuated.
Paula continued to develop her culinary skills in hopes of becoming a five star chef. She was close to mastering cooking, and spent many spare hours studying recipes and cooking techniques. But, when the opportunity came to return, she did it, with hopes of reopening her rooming house. At the moment, it was empty, with the exception of herself. That was soon to change.
A newcomer to Emerald Harbour, Buck Passer, was looking for a place to stay. He saw a woman in the square and approached her.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but would you happen to know of any place around here where a fellow from out of town could get a room?”
She answered. “As a matter of fact, you’re close to it right now. See that place behind me? That’s the Flop House. It just opened back up. You can head over there. Paula should have rooms available.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Buck, and as she walked off, Buck resolved to check out this Flop House.
Buck walked across the lawn in the direction the woman had pointed him.
Buck rang the bell, his dreams of being a sports legend dancing in his head.
Paula answered the door. “May I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, Ma’am. My name is Buck Passer, and I’ve been told you run a rooming house? I was wondering if there might be a place available for me?”
After talking for a few minutes, Paula decided that he was a polite young man, and seemed to be honest. She told him the rates and the rules of the house, and invited him inside.
Buck could be a pleasant enough person. He made conversation at meals, and he praised Paula’s home cooking.
And, as soon as the paper came that day, Buck looked for and found a job in the athletic field.
Buck, however, was far from perfect.
He tended to be messy when he ate.
One night, he invited some people over. When they left, he didn’t clean up after them.
Paula, who had a neat streak a mile long, got upset.
“Buck, I know you’re a nice guy, but honey, you are a slob! Please, can you just once in a while pick up after yourself?”
Well, what was Buck to do? He liked the Flop House, and even though he wasn’t thrilled with Paula’s reaction at the moment, he did respect her. He at least made a basic effort.
Paula decided to start growing some of her own produce. Part of it was a cost savings thing, since there weren’t any other guests in the rooming house at the moment. Part of it was to continue to improve her food quality. She also was working at the local diner just to have some income and to keep working on her five star rating.
Buck was making progress in his work. He was soon coaching on the lower levels. He was confident that stardom would soon would be his.
Buck wasn’t making progress in other areas though.
Buck and Paula did have one thing in common: the garden. Buck of his own accord started helping Paula with the watering and the weeding, the only chore that he would do without being asked or nagged about. Buck seemed to have a green thumb, because the fruits and vegetables seemed to thrive for him.
There was one other thing Buck seemed to be working on: a few relationships with the ladies. One day, Tuesday Sears came over to fix the dishwasher. Buck wound up bringing out some leftovers to share dinner with her, and then wound up inviting her to his room to dance for a while. They had fun, but it didn’t go any further.
With Alice Gregg though, Buck thought he might have a shot at something more lasting.
Buck had met Alice one day downtown while she was playing outside City Hall. He enjoyed music, and she had a pretty face. He chatted with her, and they gradually became friends.
She was a bit shy though, and wanted to take things slow. Buck wondered if ever he’d have a shot with her. He liked her though, and felt that maybe, just maybe, she’d be worth the wait.
With women, Buck usually was polite and well-mannered. With guys though, his hot headed nature would sometimes sneak through.
After a concert one day, Buck came out of the arena, and for no apparent reason, launched into this guy. Perhaps Buck didn’t like changelings.
Another day, Paula invited co-worker Brandon Walsh over after a shift for breakfast. Buck wound up calling him a ‘baby’, and the two of them argued for a while.
While Buck’s people skills weren’t producing fruit, his gardening skills were flourishing, as evidenced by Paula’s growing garden.
One of my favorite blogs is SmittenKitchen.com.
The blog is filled with beautiful and colorful pictures of food. Just looking at them makes me drool and hungry.
Her food is not just the LOOKS. They are also YUMMY too. I have tried several recipes by Deb and they all turned out great. Once I made Roseanne Cash’s Potato Salad to a family gathering and look what happened. They asked me to make some more for the future gatherings! I love Deb for it
My very first recipe is originally from Smitten Kitchen, but I tweaked a little bit. I used unsweetened apple butter and oil to substitute butter to make it a little bit healthier. Well, here it is:
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Whole Wheat Apple Muffins Original Recipe from: Smitten Kitchen
Makes 18 Muffin Cups
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup whole wheat flour, sifted
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp cinnamon
1/4 cup unsweetened apple butter
1/4 cup oil (I used canola, but vegetable, olive, or any type would be fine, I think)
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 cup buttermilk or yogurt
2 large apples, peeled, cored, and coarsely chopped
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed (for sprinkle on the top) — optional
Preheat the oven to 450F. Grease and flour 18 muffin cups and set aside.
Mix together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon, and set aside. In a separate bowl, mix the oil and apple sauce together, then add the granulated sugar and brown sugar. Beat until fluffy. Add the egg and mix well; stop once to scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl. Mix in the buttermilk gently (if you over-mix, the buttermilk will cause the mixture to curdle). Stir in the dry ingredients and fold in the apple chunks.
Divide the batter evenly among the prepared muffin cups (here, she suggests to sprinkle the 1/4 cup of brown sugar on top of each muffin before baking, but I just skipped this step). Bake for 10 minutes, turn the heat down to 400F, and bake for an additional 5 to 10 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out onto a wire rack to cool completely.
Marinated olives & toasted almonds is a classic pairing for an appetizer or meze at a Mediterranean table. There are various recipes for olive marinades; some are very aromatic, others on the spicy side, with minced hot peppers or chili flakes. This one has a distinct citrus kick, from a Moroccan ingredient, preserved lemons. The sour notes from the julienned preserved lemon peel are offset by sweet cinnamon and clove.
Olive Marinade:
Submerge olives in olive oil. Add: a few crushed garlic cloves, a bay leaf, a couple cinnamon sticks, a couple cloves, and some julienned preserved lemon peel.
Spiced Almonds:
(Use marcona almonds, the larger type. They will be peeled and blanched).
Toast almonds in one layer on a sheet pan in 350 or 375 oven for 10 minutes or so, until they are nicely browned. Check them after 7 minutes and stir them around so they toast evenly. When done, toss in a mixing bowl with salt, dark brown sugar, chopped rosemary, and paprika. Add these seasonings gradually and to taste. The almonds will be perfect when they’re a little salty, a little sweet, and a little spicy, with a fresh undertone from the rosemary.
The marinated olives keep for a very long time in the fridge. When I worked in a Mediterranean restaurant we would marinate a huge plastic tub full of olives, which would last two months or so. In fact the flavor improves over time as the olives absorb the marinade. If you have a dinner party, do what I did and make a big bowl of marinated olives of different types (Cerignola, Nicoise, Kalamata). It will be a colorful decoration on your table, and afterwards you can gradually make use of all the leftover olives by chopping them and throwing them in pasta sauces and salads.
What is cuy, you might ask? Well, cuy is the name in Peru for guinea pig. In other countries it has another name, but I think “cuy” is from the Incan times. They use the word cuy because of the sound that the guinea pigs make.
Anyways, hereabouts it’s a delicacy, especially up in the highlands. It used to be a sacred dish and would be part of religious ceremonies. Sometimes cuy would even be sacrificed to the gods when an important person died!
Piquante de Cuy
On the weekend I tried “piquante de cuy,” which literally means “spicy cuy.” The presentation was not great, it was like at a barbecue or something.
Eric, holding it by its little arms
The one thing we all quickly realized about cuy is that there is no meat on it! It was so hard to get even a little bit to eat, you had to pretty much chew and try to get some flavour out. It might have been good in stew…
Look at this tiny little piece of meat!
It really is a hunt to find the little cuy’s juicy little meatstuffs.
So, now that I can check that off my to-do list, I have decided that I need pet guinea pigs. I could get a little cage or keep them in the backyard with a big sign that says “Guinea Pig Sanctuary.” I think I’d like to name them Freedom and Liberty, but one of the volunteers suggested instead Salt and Pepper.
So everyone has their fail-safe lasagne recipe and mine will be no better than yours, just saying I made my personal best tonight! Yes, this is the quick-ish working Mum version in which my sauce is made from cans, not fresh. So shoot me.
You will need;
1 onion
500 grams minced beef
1 diced zucchini
garlic
1 small can tomato paste
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can Watties Pasta sauce
Italian seasonings, or fresh basil, parsley and oregano
Cracked black pepper
salt
1 pack of fresh lasagna sheets or the crispy kind
2 tubs of Ricotta or one if your stingy or dieting I guess
1 egg
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
Parmesan
Grated cheese
Brown mince in pan with diced onion, garlic and zucchini + black pepper, drain excess oil from pan
In a large pot combine all tomatoey ingredients, pepper, salt, fresh herbs or Italian seasoning, add browned meat etc, simmer with lid on for 30min at least.
Dump ricotta into mixing bowl add egg and nutmeg and some grated cheese if you want. Mix well.
Using some kind of ladle apparatus, scoop sauce so it covers the bottom of your lasagne dish.
Add first layer of pasta
Spread 1/2ish of your ricotta mixture over the top
sprinkle parmesan, then add a layer of grated cheese, sauce, pasta etc
Go as high as your pan can take until you run out of mix, finish with a healthy layer of grated cheese with parmesan over the top.
Bake covered with tinfoil for 25-30, remove tinfoil and bake for another 25-30 until crispy and bubbly and a bit crunchy on top.