The Grocery Cart Poet

Fearless Friday - Pea Soup

2009-05-08T12:02:00.000-04:00

Heather at Home-Ec 101, one of my favorite blogs, has started a Kitchen Bravery series, and invited readers to participate in Fearless Fridays, where we tell about our kitchen successes and failures. I thought I'd start out with something from quite a while ago, when I was high gear in new-bride-learning-to-cook mode.

Sorry, no pictures. If you want pretty pictures of food, go look at Lori's blog. Just don't forget to come back here.

My husband issued me a challenge shortly after we were married. I hated paying the price for his favorite soup-in-a-can, Green Pea Soup, by Campbell's. Not the Split Pea, but the one that's creamy smooth. He hates split pea soup with "stuff" in it. Even if the "stuff" is split peas. He has texture and consistency issues, which I am still learning to deal with 23 years later.

Well, he told me if I could make it "just as good" as the can, he would eat it and I could stop paying a dollar a can - and it's even more these days!.

Well, it took me about 8 years, and lots of tries, but I finally got it right. Hey, don't look at me like that, it's not like I was trying for eight years straight. I mean, you can only eat pea soup so often! When I make this, I usually make extra so I can freeze some - it does freeze well.

Oh, and no, there is no ham or meat of any kind in this, just some bouillon. I read the can label and saw it contained no meat, unlike the Split Pea Soup. I prefer it this way. By the way, a few years ago, after my kids had experienced my homemade pea soup, I found a foodservice sized can of Campbell's Green Pea soup at our grocery outlet store, for just over a dollar. At that price, I bought it to have on hand for a quick last-minute meal. My family complained! It was way too salty for their taste now, and they just didn't think it tasted nearly as good.

Music to a mother's ears.

ThatBobbieGirl's Better-Than-Campbells Green Pea Soup

8 servings

1 pound dried split peas
3 quarts water
1 large onion, peeled and chopped
2 tablespoons chicken bouillon granules
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon oregano
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 bay leaf
1 cup chopped celery
1 1/2 cups thinly sliced carrots
lemon juice (optional but recommended)

Wash the dried split peas. Wash them again. Combine everything except lemon juice in a large, heavy-bottomed pot with a lid (use one that holds at least 6 quarts). If the bottom of the pot is thin, you risk scorching this soup once the peas start to get soft and it gets thicker.

Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 3 1/2 to 4 hours, or until peas are tender and soup reaches desired thickness. Remove pot from stove. Puree soup in small batches using a blender, or right in the soup pot using a handheld stick blender (I love those things!) Reheat the soup, if needed, over very low heat. Stir in FRESH SQUEEZED lemon juice to taste. I use anywhere from half a lemon to a whole one for this amount of soup.

I have slow-cooked this in a crockpot, but was not at all happy with the results. Even though I cooked it just until the peas were done, my husband and I agreed it tasted overcooked, and even adding lemon juice didn't help much. Stove-top cooking just until the peas are tender gives this a much fresher taste.

While some think of pea soup merely as cold weather fare, it can be a good choice for a lighter meal in warmer times as well. I've made it year round, myself. Our family loves pea soup served with freshly baked homemade bread with real butter and a generous tossed salad with homemade dressing.

My kind of (w)rappin'

2008-12-31T12:31:00.008-05:00

On "The A-Team" which I used to watch a little more than just intermittently when it was originally aired, George Peppard's character (whose name I never could remember) used to say, in pretty much every episode that I recall, "I love it when a plan comes together." Well, plans are all well and good, and I highly recommend having one - I intend to get one myself soon. But what I love even more is when leftovers come together into something completely different from what they were served as originally. Best of all is when the family loves it and asks you to make it again.

So, here's my latest leftover recycling endeavor. I tossed it together with what I had on hand. The two cheeses were not leftovers, per se, but I did have partial packages on hand. Tortillas, cream cheese and sharp cheddar are mainstays in my house - I try to have some of each around for quick meals and last minute inspirations, such as this.

So far, I've only made this wrap with leftover chicken and green beans, but this quick, creamy wrap filling idea is getting tucked away into my mental recipe file to try when I've got other meat & veggie combos to try.

Toss-it-together Leftover Wrap

Chopped leftover chicken
leftover green beans
cream cheese
shredded or thinly sliced sharp cheddar

In a saucepan or small skillet, stir together the chicken and beans over medium heat. Add a few chunks of cream cheese and some cheddar - you want it to be just enough to sort of glue the filling together and give it some cheesy goodness. Wrap in warmed flour tortillas and serve immediately.

Taking Stock

2008-10-19T21:58:00.006-04:00

When I first got married, which will be twenty-two years ago in January, I had a lot to learn as far as cooking, so I watched lots of cooking shows and read lots of cookbooks. The Frugal Gourmet was my new best bud, and I wanted to cook everything like he did, and make everything from scratch.

One of my first projects was making my own stock -- which I was excited to do because my Dad had always made turkey stock, followed by turkey noodle soup, whenever we had occasion to roast a turkey. Rich, homemade stock, or broth, if you prefer that term, is something I've always adored, and I think I could just live on that for a long time, especially a good strong poultry stock. So it was an obvious choice for a new thing to learn.

So, I got some bony chicken parts, celery, carrots, and onions, put them all in the biggest pot we had in our tiny kitchen and set it on the electric burner. A couple hours later, I couldn't wait to taste my first batch of homemade chicken stock. Carefully using hot pads, because I knew the handles on this pot always got very hot with long cooking, I lifted the pot and carried it to the sink and cautiously poured it into the waiting colander.

Unfortunately, every other time in my life prior to this moment, I had only used a colander to get rid of liquid from whatever I'd been cooking, so I had neglected to place a bowl under the colander. Every last bit of my stock when swirling down the drain, leaving behind only the flavorless remnants of chicken carcass and vegetable mush.

Oh well, live and learn, you think. A beginner's mistake, you console.

And you'd probably be right except for one fact.

I did again, just last year.

Thank you to Heather at Home Ec 101 for soliciting confessions.

Before I had a real life...

2008-07-22T20:19:00.007-04:00

A few years ago, I used to spend way too much time on the message boards at a website called Recipezaar. One of the people I used to verbally spar with, joke around with or just get goofy with on the community message boards, was known as Mille®™ (yes, the ® and the ™ were part of his username.) His real first name was Miller, and he was of Scottish descent. Miller was one of the most intellectually amusing people I've ever encountered. He passed away sometime in 2004, which none of the 'Zaar regulars knew until someone who had his phone number called his home, and let us all know.

Though Miller had posted over 1,000 recipes on Recipezaar, here's one recipe of his you will not find there. It was rejected because the recipe introduction/description was too long. Insanely long. When you finally get to the actual recipe, you realize that the description was the whole point. The introduction expressed some of Miller's pet peeves quite well, and you get a really good glimpse into his personality and very dry sense of humor.

If, in a message board post, you said you "fixed" a recipe, he'd ask if you meant that you prepared it, or that you repaired it, as if it was broken. Miller used words precisely and was annoyed by people who did not. I found him a kindred spirit in that regard.

Miller told me that he wrote this exceedingly long introduction in my honor, since I had more than one recipe rejected due to overly verbose introductory commentary. There is also a reference to one of my recipe titles.

So...why am I posting this now? No reason, other than I came across it today on my computer when I was looking for something else. And as it has every time I've read it, it made me laugh. Why not share?

"Dip"
by Mille®™
(recipe rejected by Recipezaar)

This is not the perfect summer dip – it is, indeed, very much just your ordinary dip. Our carnivores can add bacon to it. Himalayans can use yak’s milk It is not an “I want a different dip tonight” recipe. But it IS an “I want dip tonight” recipe. But not every night – unlike a couple of recipes that are described as “Great any day”, this is best on Mondays, Fridays, and the 2nd Thursday of each month. It is not one if the hundreds (if not thousands) of recipes on Recipezaar that have simply been copied and pasted, verbatim, from other web sites. I mean, why should I bother doing that when I can simply find them elsewhere with 2 (OK, sometimes 3) mouse clicks, and also since someone else is already doing a much better job of that that I ever could? This recipe is most definitely not one of “DH’s favourites” – I don’t have a “DH”. Don’t plan on getting one, either. Sour cream, onions and herbs – what could be better? – actually, lots of things could, if you are not in the mood for sour cream, onions and herbs. Or if you are allergic to dairy products. This recipe is not recommended for use as a marinade for steak, lamb, pork, veal, bacon, fish, shrimp, scallops, oysters, or possum, and its qualities and properties as an aphrodisiac have yet to be determined (unless you thrown in a couple of oysters and some powdered rhino horn). This was not my dad’s favourite dip because, to the best of my knowledge, he never even tried it. A true heirloom, the recipe has been in my family for several days. This is not a yummy Weight Watchers’ recipe – just my opinion, but “yummy” and “Weight Watchers” are usually mutually exclusive. This is not an appy, nor an addy, nor is it any other non-existent made-up 4-letter word ending in ‘y’. This is not a wonderful change from ordinary dip because, as earlier stated, it IS just plain, ordinary dip. Which is OK. Some of us have ordinary tastes, and are proud of it. Unlike Michael Jackson. Some folks have suggested that I give the recipe a fancier or more descriptive name. I say ‘why – doesn’t the current name say it all?’ That question often stumps them – it’s funny watching the expressions on their faces. Another reason that I decided to keep the recipe title as simple as possible is to avoid any confusion such as might be generated by recipe titles such as “Oven-Fried Chicken” or “Oven French Fries” – you don’t need to pull your hair out worrying about how on earth you are going to “fry” Dip in your “oven”, especially if your oven is equipped only to bake and broil but not to fry. My daughter doesn’t complain at being asked to make this recipe. Because I never ask her. I did not get this recipe from Southern Living magazine, Better Homes and Gardens, Time, Bon Appetit, National Geographic, Hustler or Popular Mechanics. Such publications would never stoop so low as to give a recipe such a mundane title as ‘Dip’. This recipe is very much like lots of other homemade and store-bought dips. It does not taste like Spam. Dip has been served to countless thousands all over the globe with the exception of legal aliens living in the United Arab Emirates – those people are probably too busy concocting their own “recipes” (if you get my drift – nudge, nudge, say no more, say no more, a nod’s as good as a wink to a blind cow! – say no more!!!) The original recipe called for lemon cake mix, lemon Jell-O, and lemon juice. But I felt like I might then be obligated to call it ‘Lemon Dip’ or something to that effect, so I had to leave all that lemon stuff out. I don’t know whether or not you’re sure to love this, because truth be known I have not the single faintest freakin’ clue what your culinary tastes might be. For all I know, it might make you vomit, especially in the case of a very severe allergic reaction to some of the ingredients. By the way, I try very hard not to set any rules for anyone wanting to try my recipes, so it IS okay to “go eeewww” (whatever that means) before you try this, while you are trying it, after you have tried it, or even if you don’t try it. Unless, of course, that was a typo that was supposed to read “ewe” – in which case, I’d like to emphasize that this is NOT sheep dip. If it were, I’d be posting this recipe on some agricultural or animal husbandry web site. Now I realize that there will be those busy days that you just don’t have 15 or 20 minutes to make this. That’s okay – don’t make it. There is no great way to “fix” this recipe – the recipe is not, after all, broken – so don’t worry if you are not one of those people who feel that all dishes and meals have to be “fixed”. Have you ever seen the word “fixed” in any description of a dish on a restaurant menu? – makes you wonder how professional chefs survive without repairing their food. Just for the record, our dog and cat have both been fixed. Dip has no testicles to remove. In much the same way as some pecan butter cookies are described as “buttery and nutty”, this recipe can be described as “dippy”; much like a curried papaya chutney recipe is described as “Chutney with crunch of curry”, so too can this recipe be described as “dip with the crunch of dip” (especially if served with raw celery); and just as a “Chocolate Frosting” recipe is described as having “great chocolate taste”, my Dip (though I say so myself) has great dip taste. However, very much UNLIKE the recipe for “Texas Trash” that is described as having a “flavor just like the State of Texas”, I am sorry to report that Dip does not taste like any single one of the United States. If you are really, really creative and have a hell of an imagination, I suppose you could dip slices of chilled haggis in it, close your eyes, let your imagination run amok, and think to yourself “Maybe this is what Scotland tastes like!” Although I have never personally tried this, Dip might be a tasty substitute for the mayonnaise on Elvis Burgers. Dip is especially good when dog biscuits are dunked in it, according to Fido ®™. I cannot, in all honesty, say whether or not this tastes better than the stuff that they serve at restaurants, because I can’t think of a single restaurant that serves it. No animals were harmed during the experimental developing stages of this recipe, and its research and development were not funded by a grant from ExxonMobil Corporation. It would be remiss of me if I were to omit instructions on how you should eat this stuff, wouldn’t it? So, once again, I looked to Recipezaar for inspiration. After reading the descriptions of dozens of recipes, I found my answer! I confess to being a plagiaristic copycat, but since a chef recommends that you “Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip” her “Café Au Lait”, I can think of no better way to eat Dip than to “diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiips” in it! As you can probably imagine, I tried many different combinations of ingredients for Dip before I was satisfied with the final product. One of the “runner-up” versions included Worcestershire sauce. But I ran into problems when I was typing the Instructions for making that version. Once again turning to Recipezaar for inspiration, I read the Instructions for every single recipe whose ingredients include what I have come to know as “Worcestershire” sauce. And that little exercise made me doubt myself. It seems that, while the great majority of chefs seem to prefer Worcestershire sauce, there is a significant number of you who would rather use Worchestershire sauce, Wochestershire sauce, Worchteshire sauce, Worchestire sauce, Worcesershire sauce, Worstershire sauce, Worschesteshire sauce, Worstchestershire sauce, Worsheshire sauce, Wocestershire sauce, Whorcestershire sauce, Worcesershire sauce, Worcestshire souce, Worcheshire sauce, Worchesthire sauce Worchester sauce, worc. sauce and even w sauce. I simply did not have time to make Dip 17 more times to see if it would taste different with all those possibilities, and so I simply omitted it. That doesn’t mean that YOU have to omit it – you could then call your creation “SpellChecker Dip”. I have to admit that I have been tempted to name this recipe “Usual Dip”, but I refrain from doing so because that would detract from its simplicity and might make it more difficult to remember. And after seeing recipes for Pierogis, Perogies, Pirogies, Pierogies, and having watched Email Lagross making Pirogis on FoodTV, not to mention Shepherd’s Pie, Shepard’s Pie, Sheppard's pie, Shepperd's pie, Sheppherd’s Pie, and Shephard’s Pie, I certainly am glad that there is only one way to spell “Dip”. Except, of course, the famous Hot Oriental Dipp. If that’s the recipe you were looking for, you can find it at http://www.herlocherfoods.com/recipes.html#9

Prep: 12 min Serves 18 Makes 20 fluid ounces

16 fluid ounces sour cream
2 fluid ounces mayonnaise
1 tablespoon dried dill
2 tablespoons grated onion
2 tablespoons chopped chives
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
Salt and ground pepper, to taste

Mix ‘em up.
Chill.
Eat.

Instant Roadkill - Just Add Water

2008-07-06T15:31:00.005-04:00

I remember, as a child, one time when we were visiting my great-grandparents in West Virginia. There was a pot simmering on the stove, and a smell I'd never encountered coming from it. Great Grandpa told me he was making squirrel stew, and to prove it, he gave my sister and me the fresh tail. It was soft and pliable, and we took it back home to Ohio with us and kept it in our room. Eventually, it got stiff and the hairs started coming out, so Mom said it had to go...

Anyway, I had wanted a taste of that squirrel stew, but we weren't staying around for dinner, and we weren't offered a taste, and being an at least somewhat polite youth, I did not ask to try it.

Now, without having to go hunting or roadkill-gathering, and even bothering with the mess of gutting, skinning and cleaning, I can finally have a taste of squirrel stew.

Who wants to split a #10 can of dehydrated squirrels
with me?

They're available whole, boneless, or filets. I think we should get whole squirrels - they seem like the best deal, and bones will make a good broth for the stew, don'tcha think?

Attack of the Frozen Meat Lumps and Other Kitchen Disasters

2008-06-15T14:56:00.003-04:00

Now, about that nasty, frozen lump of unidentifiable bird parts in the bottom of your freezer. Yeah, I know, you're gonna get around to using it "one of these days" when you have a week to defrost it all.

And those packages of ground meat that you tossed in there months ago, still in their store wrappings? Can you say freezer burn, girlfriend?

I'm sorry, but I'm not going to tell you how to disguise the taste of freezer burned meat. But, here's a few tips about how to avoid the problem in the first place.

With just a little teensy bit of extra work on shopping day (It won't hurt too much, I promise!) you can make things go quicker at meal time, without stopping at the store on the way home, even if you forgot to pull the meat from the freezer in the morning.

This is the method I use with boneless, skinless chicken breasts, which is one of my favorite ways to buy chicken. And I only buy those on sale, which means it usually comes in those five-to-ten pound bags. Or a 40-pound case, if you get one of those good sales at Butcher Block. You can also do this trick with cut chicken parts, provided they're not un-split breasts, or leg-thigh quarters.

Packing and freezing it this way allows me to use one chicken breast or ten, whatever amount I want, without trying to pry apart frozen chicken, and ending up having plastic surgery.....again....but that's another story, now, isn't it? I didn't really need the full use of that finger anyway.....

At the same time, I make sure that I've got a good stash of CHEAP sandwich baggies. Not critical but it makes this go a lot faster. I used to use plastic wrap, but that took so long I dreaded the task. You'll also want some gallon size zipper freezer bags, or a large flat-bottomed plastic freezer container.

Sometimes I do cover the workspace with plastic wrap, just to make cleanup easier, and to keep that funky chicken juice from getting all over my counter. Eeeeewww.......

Here's the nifty-neato part: you barely have to touch the chicken if you do this right, and if you're fortunate enough to have bought chicken already cut into the serving size pieces you want.

Take a sandwich bag, and hold it in one hand, while pushing the bottom inside out with the other hand. Grab a piece of chicken with the bag covering your fingers, then pull the bag right side out again, over the chicken.

If this is boneless chicken, you'll want to go one step further: lay it down and squish it out flat before you wrap the bag tightly around it, to make it easier to thaw out later. If you can flatten out bone-in chicken, I don't want to meet you in a dark alley without my bodyguard.

After you've wrapped each piece of chicken, stack them neatly inside a large freezer bag or plastic freezer container, then put in the coldest part of your freezer.

When you've done this once or twice, it goes pretty quickly, and the ability to use just the amount of chicken you want easily and neatly (and PAINLESSLY!) is worth it all.

And now, to the Dreaded Hamburger Lump.

Way back in the seventies, as a pre-teen Hamburger Helper Chef Extraordinaire in a family that never took the hamburger lump out of the freezer ahead of time, I literally spent hours at the stove, turning that frozen ball of meat over in the hot skillet, and scraping off the bits that had browned on the part that had just left contact with the pan. This was a pretty lousy job.

When my Mom came up with her Idea, all on her own, she was so proud of herself, and we were thrilled! We tended to eat a lot of hamburger-based meals, so Mom bought her burger in bulk at the butcher, in ten pound bags, usually two at a time.

When we got home, we immediately re-packed this meat into one-pound portions in freezer bags. We squeezed out all of the air, then closed it with a twistie tie. With zipper-close freezer bags it's even easier, but they're more costly to use.

Big deal, right? One day Mom came up with her Idea: FLATTEN IT ! Mash that sucker flat as a roadkill squirrel. Well, almost. Then you can neatly stack these up in your freezer, ready to pull out when you come home with dinner on your mind.

Compared to the lump-freeze method, it will thaw out so quickly you won't believe it. It doesn't matter if you forget to pull it out of the freezer ahead of time. You can plunge the bag into cold water for a bit if you're going to use it for meatloaf, meatballs or patties. Sometimes, I cook the ground meat, and freeze it the same way, so it's ready to dump into spaghetti sauce or make some quick sloppy joes.

You know those heavily-marketed "miracle" food defrosting trays that we were deluged with a few years back? Well, when I found out they're made of heavy aluminum (after I saw one at a flea market and examined it) I just started using a heavy duty aluminum pan for the same thing.

So...if you have any sort of heavy aluminum pot, pan, baking dish, just lay your frozen flattenened hamburger meat or your squished chicken in it. Wait for about 30 minutes, and it'll be pretty well on its way to ready to cook. I've also found it goes a little quicker if you set that pan on a baking rack

Personally I wouldn't leave meat sitting out longer than that or you're asking for trouble, with all those pesky little salmonellas lurking around these days. But I'm weird that way.

Things that got bumped in the night....cheap!

2008-06-13T14:45:00.007-04:00

If you live in Gettysburg/Adams county/Franklin county area, you might already know about BB's Grocery Outlet in Newburg, and all the wonderful deals you can get on "bents & bumps" - what they call groceries that have been slightly damaged but are still perfectly fine to consume.

BB's Grocery Outlet is my friend. I love them.

They sold me what amounts to more than an entire year's supply of canned tomatoes for $10.

How much did I get?

Five banana boxes full. A lot of these were high quality imported Italian tomatoes, some were organic, a lot were Hunt's and Redpack. I got diced, whole, sauce, puree, crushed, etc.

Ten dollars.

TEN. DOLLARS.

FIVE banana boxes. FULL.

Try buying ten CANS of tomatoes for ten dollars at a regular grocery store. Good luck.

Other deals I've snagged include:

Wolfgang Puck and Amy's Organic's soups -- Three for ONE DOLLAR
La Preferida Refried Beans -- SIX for one dollar
A 10 pound bag of rice for $1.79
Aura Cacia essential oils -- 50 to 75 cents a bottle (these can sell for $8 to $10 each)

For those who don't live close enough to shop at BB's Grocery Outlet, don't despair!
I just found a directory of "Independent Discount & Salvage" grocery stores all across the country. It's on the website of Anderson's Market, a discount/salvage grocery store in Virginia. Isn't that a very thoughtful thing for them to do ?

Discount & Salvage Grocery Store Directory

Kitchen peeves....

2008-06-05T22:00:00.006-04:00

I never thought of myself as a particularly picky person, but I must admit that there are some things that really do bother me. And for the most part, they are small things, but if they happen over and over again, it does become quite irksome.

In the kitchen, there are primarily two things I find annoying.

I know that, when you're cooking, it's wise to get into the "clean as you go" mentality. Most people I know, when working that way, will make a sinkful or large bowlful of hot sudsy water to throw dirty odds and ends in. I do this myself. Where I part from the majority is in what I do not, and downright forbid others to, toss into that pre-soak in my kitchen.

Plastics.

Nothing that is plastic, or rubber, or even silicone, is allowed to sit in soapy water for any length of time. I've found that these materials, if left for even a little while, will wind up smelling like, and also tasting like soap, and this taste will transfer to food that comes into contact with it. In order to facilitate cleanup, I'll sometimes have a separate just-plain-hot-water soak for plastics.

This was something I learned on my own. After throwing away soapy-flavored leftovers, I kind of got militant about it. When visiting my inlaws with my baby girl, I got a bit pushy with Grandma about letting the formula bottles sit in the dishwater, and insisted that I'd wash them myself. So, leave the dishrag floating in the water all you want (I love you, Lori!) just don't put the Tupperware in there with it.

My other peeve isn't quite limited to the kitchen, but that is where it happens most often. I really hate it when people move my stuff.

My areas (kitchen, desk, laundry, etc.) may not look organized, but I know where things are supposed to be. When someone helps with cleaning up by "putting stuff away" but they don't know the right place, it's actually worse than not helping at all. I try to be civil in my correction, and remind them that I don't mind if they "use my stuff" if they put it where it's supposed to go when they're done with it.

A place for everything, and everything in it's place. And I think that my place, for now, should be in bed. Good night!

Quick thoughts....

2008-02-09T10:46:00.001-05:00

Why is it that when you drop a lot of bucks on an appliance, say a Vita-Mix, or an Oreck vacuum, or an Excalibur dehydrator, which you've purchased via direct mail advertising from the manufacturer, they continue to send you advertisements for the same product, but now they're now addressed as being marketed exclusively to owners of said product. Oh yeah, now that you've made a new RED Vita Mix, I think I'll just dump my shiny black one that isn't that old and still works fine....coz as your ad says, it's just in time for Valentine's Day.

Into the woodstove you go, along with all the rest of the junk mail...what a kind service they've provided. Free heat, by mail...how thoughtful.

Today's Coffee Haiku

2007-09-25T19:53:00.001-04:00

Another one of my entries into the Coffee Haiku Contest sponsored by Green Mountain Coffee

Say those three little
words that make my heart skip a
beat. "Want some coffee?"

Do you haiku? Me, too!

2007-09-24T08:26:00.001-04:00

Green Mountain Coffee Roasters, purveyors of the finest coffee I've ever tasted, namely Wild Mountain Blueberry, and many runners-up in my book, including Southern Pecan and Hazelnut, are having a haiku contest, which I thought appropriate to mention here on The Grocery Cart Poet.

I've never been really fond of fruit-flavored coffees - raspberry, orange, apple? Each of them that I was able to bring myself to try turned out beyond disappointing - some were downright nasty and, sad to say, had to be dumped. "Life is too short to drink bad coffee," as my kids have often heard me say.

But, when the blueberry coffee whacked me in the nostrils last autumn, I had to risk a cup. Perhaps, not all fruit-scented coffees were fit only for the dung-heap. The first cup enslaved me, and I bought a bag to take home, savoring each morning's coffee until the last cup was brewed. Alas, when I tried to buy more, it was nowhere to be found. A seasonal flavor? I believe so, at least in these parts, because it was nowhere to be seen again until about a month ago.

But I digress. As I said, Green Mountain Coffee Roasters is having a coffee haiku contest.

The prizes aren't huge, but they are cool - a Keurig single cup brewer and a supply of the K-cups to use with it, total value $189.

Plus - and this is the best part - they print the winning haikus on their cups, along with the name and town of who wrote them.

Oh, and the website would be good to include:

http://www.greenmountaincoffee.com/cstm_haiku-sweeps.aspx

Here are the two haiku (haikus?) that I've submitted so far - you're limited to one per day.

Steaming, cupped and creamed,
spirit-rousing aroma,
pure bliss on the tongue.

Thou art tastier
and refresheth hastier
than a good night's sleep.

So settle down with a steaming hot cup and get haiku-ing!

(*Disclaimer - the plural of haiku may be haiku rather than haikus, but I ain't lookin' it up right now. I've used both in this post to be fair to both possibilities.)

Your tuna may be dolphin-safe, but is it monkey-free?

2007-09-09T20:18:00.001-04:00

On Labor Day, our family got together with a bunch of friends from church. The food was abundant and delicious, and the company was great. The conversation, however, proved that at least some of these friends, who shall not be named here, are....odd. I mean really, really odd.

But, in a good way.

I think.

Conversation topics included:

"Recipes to avoid at all costs" This began with "Ham Shortcake" and ended up on tomato aspic and other gelatinous abominations. I never got to tell my hasenpfeffer story, but at least a couple people there had already heard it anyway.

TV shows from the seventies, and debate about which ones were great and which ones were horrid. There was not consensus on any of these, so I have no results to report.

Eyewitness accounts of vivid animal deaths, some of which were caused by the person giving the account as they were trying to get the animal out of their house.

Monkey slavery and what we should do about it, and how we could make money in the effort to save monkeys. One idea was to create a logo certifying products to be 100% Monkey Free. (Our cottage cheese contains no monkey or monkey by-products, and says so on the label. Does yours? Why not?). The guys had some pretty great, if not entirely legal, ideas, which shall not be carried out by any of us. But, talking about it was more fun than a barrel of....well, you know....

And so, inspired by the "bad recipes" topic and by my strange and wonderful friends, I thought I'd share the first recipe I ever created. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It wasn't.

Kids: Don't Try This At Home.

Or Anywhere Else.

------------
Broiled Cheese Surprise

Preheat broiler.

Place one slice of white bread on broiler pan.

Broil bread until lightly toasted.

Remove from broiler and carefully turn over.

Place one slice of American Cheese (which is an orangish color, because this is the 1970s in Ohio and that's all you can buy) on top of bread.

Realize that what you really want is chocolate.

Remove cheese, place about 2 tablespoons of semi-sweet chocolate chips on the bread.

Replace cheese. Broil until cheese melts.

Carefully taste when cool enough.

Try not to gag.

Realize Mom will find it if you toss it in the trash.

Eat evidence.

Brush teeth to get rid of taste.

------

And it's not really bragging to say that my cooking has improved since then.

Eat your memories

2007-08-25T23:30:00.001-04:00

Once, I heard Jeff Smith, The Frugal Gourmet, say that we should teach our children about their past by feeding them memories. I can't remember the exact quote, but what he meant was to teach them about where they come from, with food.

I've tried to do this with my children - not so much with traditional ethnic foods, because we just never had much Russian, Polish or German foods when I was a kid, so it's not really part of me. Rather, I'll occasionally prepare something I remember having as a child, and talk to them about the history related to the dish. If they like it, I'll make it again.

My Mom was born and raised in West Virginia, in the coal country, until she was somewhere in junior high, which is when they made the move to Ohio. I grew up hearing about their rented house "in the head of the holler" by the mines. There was no heat on the second floor, which was where my mom and her sister shared a room. It was owned by the man who seemed to own everything around, including the coal mines where everyone worked. At one point, the only way they had any water in the house was from a garden hose run down the hill from a location I used to know but have since forgotten. They made do with what they had, and the hope of a better life was what drove them to another state.

But, even after they moved, and things got better, the memories of hard times that had been burned into their minds showed themselves. One place it showed was in the kitchen.

There was a period of time, when I was a little girl, that my Mom would take us to her parents house almost every Tuesday night for a mess o' beans and corn bread, just like she remembered having as a child. Of course, back then, they had eaten it more often than once a week.

We did this on Tuesdays, because that was Dad's bowling league night, and he really hated the way Grandma made her beans. He liked bean soup - thin and brothy - and soup this most definitely was not. Grandma made a thick, steaming pot of white beans cooked in her pressure cooker to the point of being almost creamy in your mouth. The only seasoning was salt, and perhaps onion, but not much.

The cornbread was not served on the side. We were taught to butter the cornbread, then to crumble it over the bowl of hot beans. You could mix it in, or just leave it on top, but you ate them together on your spoon in each bite. Simple as this food may be, it must be eaten carefully -- and slowly. You can easily stuff yourself silly before your mouth is finished enjoying this amazingly delicious peasant food.

I've made beans and corn bread for my own family. Many times, because they enjoyed them very much - even my husband, which pleased me immensely. I need to make this again as soon as it's cool enough to be able to enjoy a heavy dish, since it's not too light on the tum.

And even though I've opted for the crockpot method over Grandma's favored pressure cooker, and even though I soak my beans for several days rather than overnight so I can digest them better, they still taste like the memories of my childhood.

And my mother's.

Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee.........aaaahh.....

2007-06-24T07:52:00.001-04:00

Though this is one of my earliest food-related poems, I realized today that I'd never posted it on my Grocery Cart Poet blog. How could I have overlooked such an obvious thing, I'll never know.

Thanks to my maternal grandmother, who got me hooked, I've been drinking coffee since before I was ten. Lucky for me that I ignored the warnings of "It'll stunt your growth!" from other grown-ups who happened to see me pouring myself a cup at gatherings. I grew to five-feet-nine-inches tall. Just imagine if I'd refrained from coffee as they suggested -- surely I'd be six-and-a-half feet tall!

Owed to the Bean
(an ode to coffee)

Shall I compare thee to a good night's sleep?
Thou art more tasty and refresheth me with greater haste.
Well roasted and ground to perfection,
Thine aroma dost rouse my spirit.
Steaming, cupped and creamed, thou art a delight to mine eyes.
Sipped and slurped, pure bliss on my tongue!
Divine infusion, wake me from my slumber!

Feeling a bit Garfieldish lately

2007-03-28T13:39:00.001-04:00

There once was a chef, name of Tonya
Who was known for atrocious lasagna
If she served it to you
'Twas the best thing to do
To be sloppy and spill it all on ya!

If that could describe your attempts at lasagna, I have the answer for you!

It's not exactly a modest thing to say, but I think I've created the perfect lasagna.

I only say that because it's the best-tasting homemade lasagna I've ever had. I think it rivals what I've had in restaurants and it's certainly better than store-bought frozen ones. To me, it tastes the way lasagna is supposed to taste -- savory, cheesy, and not sweet in the least.

On top of all that, it rates extremely high in Non-Difficult To Prepare. If it didn't, I wouldn't make it. I love good food, but if it takes all day to make, fahgeddaboutit.

I took the sauce from "Derf's Crock Pot Lasagna" on Recipezaar, and modified it slightly. I'd made her crock pot recipe before, but I wanted to make this in the oven -- her sauce was pretty good, so I just tweaked it a bit. She used cottage cheese in her recipe, but I like a substantial ricotta filling in a lasagna -- so I took the cheese filling from the back of a lasagna noodles box and tweaked THAT slightly.

This is written up for a 13 x 9 pan, which I have but can't use because we only have a tiny countertop convection oven to bake in. So I assembled mine in 2 pans, one of which is a rectangluar one quart baking dish -- which makes one nice meal for our family. I think it would be good to have several baking dishes of this size and make up a bunch of lasagna for the freezer. My husband LOVES this. When we had this last night, he kept saying how good it was, and helping himself to just a bit more. He's liked my previous attempts but never so much as this one -- I must admit, I have to agree with him.

Bobbie's Best Lasagna

MEAT SAUCE:
1 lb lean ground beef
1 large onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, smashed
4 cans (8oz each) tomato sauce
1 (6 ounce) can tomato paste
1 cup water
3/4 teaspoons salt
1-1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

CHEESE FILLING:
15 ounces whole milk ricotta cheese
2 large eggs (or 3 small)
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
1 cup shredded mozzerella cheese
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley (or a lesser amount of dried, or leave it out)
1/2 tsp black pepper

FOR ASSEMBLY:
lasagna noodles, uncooked -- as many as needed from a 16 oz box
1 or 2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese

Brown ground beef and onion, breaking meat up into small pieces as it cooks. You can drain it if you wish -- I don't. Remove from heat and stir in remaining sauce ingredients. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer over very low heat while making cheese filling (no more than 10 minutes)

In medium bowl, stir ricotta until smooth. Make a well in center, and break eggs into it. Break yolks with fork and stir eggs into ricotta until well combined. Add remaining cheese filling ingredients and mix well.

Using one 13x9x2 baking dish:
Put about one cup of meat sauce in bottom of dish. Cover with one layer of uncooked lasagna noodles, breaking to fit if necessary. Cover with about one-third of remaining sauce. Using about 1/2 of cheese mixture, plop it by tablespoonfuls over the noodles and sauce. Carefully spread it around. Add another layer of noodles, and another 1/3 of the sauce, followed by the rest of the cheese filling. Add a final layer of noodles, the rest of the sauce, and then cover with shredded mozzerella.

Cover with foil, bake about 45 minutes at 350F. Remove foil, and bake a further 15 minutes. Let stand about 10 mintues before cutting.
10 to 12 servings.

If you're baking this after you refrigerate it a while, you'll need to add on to the baking time -- it took me an extra 15 minutes. Add the extra cooking time before the foil is removed -- doing it with the foil off might cause the mozzarella to get over-browned.

Ode to Hot and Sour Soup

2007-01-29T21:06:00.001-05:00

Today I'm doing something I've never done on this blog before (as far as I remember, at least). We're having a guest poet. The reasons for this are:

1. I adore Hot and Sour Soup as much as she seems to...

2. I've never once written a poem about it...

3. It's a very well-written poem...

4. She told me I could.

Our guest poet is a delightful young lady with the equally delightful name of April Starr. From what I gather, she was inspired to write this poem by the recent cravings she's been experiencing -- I wish I'd craved such an exquisite dish as this during my own pregnancies. I had to make do with craving peanut butter on toast.

Ode to Hot and Sour Soup

Oh, luscious bowl
Of soup, hot and sour!
So deft with my spoon
would I gladly devour
the glorious broth,
floating bits, undefined,
and yet without knowledge
I shall be satisfied.
Oh, such a succulent
treat to be eaten!
Pray, give me no coffee
e’en with sugar sweetened!
And no mashed potatoes
Though creamy and beaten-
Give me naught but my soup
Oriental in flavor,
And each wondrous bite
will I joyously savor!

Thanks, April!

Unbelievably Creamy Pasta with Garlic and Green Olives

2007-01-15T23:23:00.001-05:00

Recipes are an illusion. Gourmet Cooking doubly so.

At least that's my story for now.

There are no amounts for this recipe, thus the illusion.

Quantities are constantly in flux when I prepare this for my family, depending on how much garlic I have, how many olives I feel like chopping, whether I remembered to buy Parmesan cheese yesterday, and what shoes I'm wearing.

Not too long after we married, my husband and I really got into watching "The Frugal Gourmet" on PBS. On one of the first shows we watched, Jeff Smith prepared this dish.

I practically freaked out trying to write this down, since I had not yet learned my laid-back, pinch o' this, handful o' that way of cooking. He was just tossing things in the pan! How can you COOK like that? (Just fine, thankyouverymuch)

At that time I was trying to make myself into a gourmet cook, so I bought the whole green olives and pitted them myself. I bought the wedge of Parmigiano-Reggiano that played havoc with the week's grocery money, grating it over the top, with my own freshly Band-Aid-ed fingers, just before serving.

I got over it. Nowadays, I just have fun in the kitchen, and we manage to eat pretty well, gourmet cook or no.

So, here it is, the way I make it now. More or less.

Unbelievably Creamy Pasta with Garlic and Green Olives

What you need:
Pasta
Green olives
Fresh Garlic
Olive oil
Whipping cream, light cream or half & half
Parmesan cheese
Black pepper
Parsley

What you do:
Put on a big pot of water to boil. Pick out your pasta, cook it al dente and keep it hot. You can use spaghetti, capellini, vermicelli, or linguini, whatever you prefer). After you've made this once, and you know how long it takes for you to make the sauce, you can make everything come up ready at the same time.

Get some green olives. Any kind you want, really. I just get a bottle of cheap salad olives. There are usually a lot of pimento pieces floating around in there. We like the color, but I'm afraid the ol' Frugal Gourmet would NOT approve. You can get a bit fancier if you want. Chop up the olives a bit, not tiny.

Next the garlic. You simply MUST use fresh for this -- no powder, not even the jar of pre-chopped. Those are okay for some things, and I have used them occasionally myself. However, if you use anything other than fresh garlic in this recipe, you will not be impressed, and you will never make this again. I will weep. Don't do that to me.

Take your fresh garlic clove, wrap it in that flat rubber disc you use to open jars. Just roll it up in there, then roll it back and forth on the countertop a few times. Unwrap it, and the peel should be off or mostly off. Do this with lots of garlic cloves. LOTS. At least a couple per person you're feeding. Slice the garlic, but not too thinly.

In a hot sauté pan, put a little olive oil, the fresh sliced garlic and the chopped green olives. Be generous. A handful per person is a good start.

Sauté the garlic and olives just a bit, being careful not to let the garlic brown, or it may become bitter. Add some light cream, and bring to a simmer. Cook over low heat until the liquid has been reduced by almost half, and it is thick. You needn't stir continually, but do it often.

Pour this over the hot pasta, sprinkle generously with parmesan, chopped parsley and black pepper, preferably fresh from the pepper mill.

Toss well and serve immediately with a tossed salad and some crusty bread.

Take a bow.

Blāk, Blëk, Whatever -- a lesson in Beverage Math

2007-01-09T14:50:00.001-05:00

After having sampled the concoction, which claims to be "Coke® Effervescence with Coffee Essence" - I came up with the following equation

bbbbbbbb The Real Thing
+bb Good to the Last Drop
Undrinkable Abomination

Basically, it's Coke Zero with a shot of espresso.

And it's disgusting. I cannot fathom how anyone came up with such an idea.

Maybe it's the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup notion -- two great tastes that taste great together. (For you young'uns, that's from an old commercial. Same with the phraseology in the math above. Google it.)

But you can't just take any two "great tastes" and put them together and expect something magical (like a peanut butter cup) to happen.

For example - I love spinach. No, I really do. And, I really really love creme brulee. But if I made spinach creme brulee, would I foist it upon some unsuspecting dinner guests and expect them to ooooh and aaaah over it?

I guess that's not a fair comparison -- I was not unsuspecting. I did know that it was a combination of coke and coffee before I tasted it.

And I did assume it would be awful, but like the beverage equivalent of driving by a train wreck and having to look, I did have to buy (just one) bottle of this new taste and give it a whirl.

Then I wanted to hurl. (Yes, the rhyme was on purpose -- this is The Grocery Cart Poet, after all)

Recently I have uncovered the truth about this product!

The beverage's name is the result of a typo, discovered too late in the process to correct it -- labels had already been printed, marketing had begun, commercials taped -- so they just had to go with it.

The "beverage" -- if it actually qualifies as such -- that is being marketed as Coca-Cola Blāk was originally intended to be called Coca-Cola Blëk.

Which would have been much more apropros.

(Ok, so I made up that last bit -- but it should be true!)

Have a (real) Coke and a smile!

Yogurt, please. And nothing fruity.

2006-05-03T06:10:00.001-04:00

When I was young I used to eat
sweet yogurt, and think it a treat.
Plain yogurt was something that I'd pass by
without a thought, my nose held high

Now that I'm old, I pass on sweet.
Plain yogurt, yes that's what I eat
Fruit yogurt's an item that I pass by
One taste of plain, you'll hear me sigh

Oh, I'm so weird, I'll sub it for meat.
Raw yogurt, milk fresh from the teat
My yogurt is something you won't pass by
A spoonful and you'll know just why.

Lately, I've had an obsession with cultured bovine lactation.

Yogurt, buttermilk, creme fraiche. Made from raw, unpasteurized milk straight from the farm. My mouth waters inexplicably at the merest thought of the possibility of eating homemade raw yogurt.

While it is perfectly legal in Pennsylvania to buy raw milk, (unlike many other states -- I smuggled some into Ohio when we went to visit my sister) it's not just something you can run into Giant and plop down your money to take home. You have to find out where to get it by talking to people.

We have found two sources to buy it (the closest of which means about a one-hour round trip to the middle of nowhere) and another source -- friends with a cow or two -- to get some from once in a while in trade. Theirs is the best, the two farms are second choice. The farm that's slightly farther away happens to be near my brother-in-law's house, so when my husband goes over to see his brother, he tries to get over to get us some milk. You have to bring your own bottles - we have enough glass bottles to get four gallons at a time. So we pack them up in the 40 year old green Coleman cooler along with ice packs, and if he has time today to do it, we'll have milk this evening. And I can make yogurt. Muwahahaha.

If we can't get out to get milk from one of these places, we do without milk, since I no longer buy the pasteurized, homogenized, dead milk from stores -- we don't believe it's healthy, and would rather do without.

Sometimes I do buy plain yogurt - you need yogurt to make yogurt, and sometimes, I just need a yogurt fix in between times when we have milk to make my own.

I follow a recipe for making "raw" yogurt, which does not heat it high enough to kill the good stuff living in the milk. It's just warmed gently to 110F, then a small amount of yogurt is mixed in. It's then put into clean jars with lids and placed in my Excalibur dehydrator for about 8 hours at 95 degrees. The dehydrator makes a perfect incubator for yogurt.

After it's chilled, I can't wait to take the lid off and drink some of the sour whey that's puddled on top. Then I get a spoon and scoop out a mouthful. And my entire body sighs. There are worse things you can be addicted to than plain yogurt.

Sometimes, I'll just shake up the jar, whey and all, and it makes a very smooth, drinkable yogurt. My son cringes if he sees me drinking plain yogurt right out of a quart mason jar, but if it's not "chunky" then he only cringes a little.

Watching mom drink chunky cultured milk products is a little much, even for somebody named DangerBoy.

Canned Peas

2006-04-22T00:01:00.002-04:00

Oh, I eat canned peas with taters
(some think that I'm a loon)
but I eat canned peas with taters
'cause it keeps them on my spoon.

Spoon full of mashed pataters,
upside down, into my peas
pressed lightly down (don't smash 'em)
Mmmmm. Scrumptious. Seconds please?

Now, frozen peas are tasty
(of course, I cook them - D'oh!)
but they don't go with my taters
tastes funny, don'tcha know?

The Cream Has Soured

2006-04-19T06:06:00.001-04:00

Won't open up the 'frigerator door
Can't bear to hear the scream
That tiny voice inside my head
Yes, it's the sour cream!

"You know you want me", it will cry,
"One spoonful! It won't hurt!"
And so I listen, and give in
More bulges in my shirt?

No, chocolate does not tempt me sir,
Not cookies, cake, nor pie
But, the sour cream is evil, sir
It's guilty, sir, not I.

Pot Roast

2006-04-15T08:33:00.001-04:00

(with apologies to Ogden Nash)

I can not boast
of my pot roast
as it is moast-
ly dry.

It's not suppoast
to taste like toast.
So, now this hoast
will cry.

Post-Turkey Day Analysis

2005-11-29T11:22:00.001-05:00

Fully expecting to be invited to my inlaws house for Thanksgiving dinner, I did no planning whatsoever ahead of time. Even when it came down to the day before, I figured my mother-in-law would call and say "Oh, dear, we forgot to invite you for Thanksgiving!" But, it never happened. My husband was even at their house on Wednesday, having stopped by for a visit after picking up a window air conditioner that his uncle was discarding in favor of central air (YES!! An air conditioner! Woo hoo! Well, not for right now, obviously, unless it's also got a "blast hot air" setting.)

So, on Wednesday, I got the turkey out. And let it sit on the counter overnight, even though I know you're not suposed to do that. Why? Because right now, our house is so cold, it's nearly the same as thawing it in the refrigerator. I figured I was safe.

Thursday morning I woke up -sitting bolt upright at 7:50 am without aid of an alarm clock, instantly fully awake, even though I'd been up until after 2:00 in the morning, baking a pumpkin custard, tending coal and wood stoves, and writing a bit - and the turkey was not quite thawed enough yet.

"Ok," I thought, "I'll do a water thaw. No problemo. Oh, cranberry sauce!" I rushed downstairs to grab a couple cans to put in the refrigerator to start chilling.

"AAAIIEEEE!!!" That was a mental shriek. We were OUT of canned sauce, and I went "AAAIIEE!!!" because I know our family simply cannot have Thanksgiving dinner without jellied cranberry sauce. I mean, that's why God made the cranberry -- so nice people could make it into cranberry sauce so we can buy it and eat it with turkey! Turkey without cranberry sauce is just.......well, it's just fowl.

Time for an executive decision, and seeing as I am the CEDE (Chief Executive of Domestic Engineering) for Laughman Family, Inc., I made it. In order to allow time for the turkey to thaw completely, and to allow myself to embark on a new culinary adventure -- I announced, to anyone who was awake, but mostly to myself, that we would have our turkey dinner in the evening, rather than at lunch time. Nobody freaked - good sign.

Leaving the turkey to work out its own issues with ice crystals, I dug out some cranberries I knew I had in the freezer. Literally - they were on the bottom of the chest freezer. Not having a clue what to do, and never having made cranberry sauce (this is the culinary adventure I mentioned above) I followed a recipe for Jellied Cranberry Sauce that was on the back of the bag, quadrupling it, as it said it only made 1 cup of sauce. Hey, they were Ocean Spray cranberries, and those folks know how to make cranberry sauce, so I was pretty sure it would work.

Sugar, water, berries. Simple. Only about three-quarters of it got strained through the fine sieve to de-seed & de-skin it, the rest remaining somewhat-whole-berry sauce, because I like it that way. Instead of the four cups or so of sauce that I was expecting, it filled 3 pint jars plus about a cup left over that went into a plastic container. Pretty good yield! My daughter (she was helping me in the kitchen by this time) and I were excited about this cranberry sauce. We'd never made homemade sauce before. It was much prettier than the canned Ocean Spray we were used to serving, and to us, it tasted much better: brighter, fresher. We couldn't wait to have it with turkey - just as God intended.

Speaking of turkey, that was next on the agenda. But, it needed to get unwrapped & rinsed and the sink was looking like a disaster area. (So was the entire kitchen....but I digress....that's what parentheses are for, right?) So, I tackled that, cleaned the sink out, and wrestled the bird out of the wrapper only to find out we must have gotten some poultry with criminal tendencies. I know, it sounds weird, but it must have done something wrong to get its legs bound up with metal wire I couldn't even bend.

After struggling with it a while, I was about to yell for my husband to give me a brilliant idea, but I came up with one on my own. Grabbing a paring knife, I slipped it between the end of the leg-bone (what was once the turkey's knee, I suppose) and the metal leg-cuff, and very carefully so as to avoid a return-trip to the plastic surgeon because of another poultry-induced knife injury, loosed one leg, then the other. The prisoner was free. (Play me some Lynnard Skynnard - whaddy'all wanna hear?? Freebird!!!)

Then, to add insult to injury for the doomed fellow, I clipped its wings off. Partly to make sure the jailbird wouldn't make a break for it when I turned my back, but mostly because I wanted to simmer the wings with the giblets for gravy. Who was I trying to impress with a pretty roasted birdy anyway? Nobody -- the family just wants everything to taste good. So the birdy bits simmered away in a pot all day while the birdy body roasted for about 5 hours.

Meanwhile, we played board games. We started with one called "Acquire" in which you start hotel chains, buy stock in them, make mergers, and try to end up with the most assets by the end. Sounds really boring, but it's not. We had a blast. In fact, we had fun all day long, with little or no difficulties.

The only slightly real trouble was when we played a game called Wizard's Quest - which was a bad move. The kids, for some unexplained reason, had wonderful memories of this game, and begged to play it, instead of playing another round of Acquire, which everyone had liked, especially the part where DangerBoy came in first, our daughter in second, me (aka Mom) in third and Dad in last place. This is something that never happens. Ever. It's usually the exact reverse.

Anyway, Wizard's Quest has a long, drawn out set-up process before you ever get to start "play", and believe it or not, that's the best part. The actual game is painful and agonizing and full of sadness, as your men are gobbled by the dragon and the Orcs frenzy and slaughter the rest. Any time you perceive a ray of hope, it's squashed almost immediately. I think we've finally agreed to never play Wizard's Quest again. It's just too depressing.

When I announced it was time to eat (I'd been peeling & cooking potatoes & making gravy in between my times of getting Orc-frenzied or attacked by fellow players) everyone eagerly put away The Most Terrible Board Game In The World and set the table.

So, dinner was simple - turkey, mashed potatoes with real butter & milk from the Diaz's cow & sea salt, homemade turkey gravy that was the best I've ever made in my life, the homemade cranberry sauce, celery sticks, and pumpkin custard.

The results? The cranberry sauce was a hit -- but my husband liked the non-strained sauce better than the jelly. How could this possibly be? He informed me that I had never inquired WHY he had insisted on only jellied cranberry sauce at every Thanksgiving dinner at his parents' house. He was right, so I inquired right then. It was, he said, because his Mom would make homemade sauce and put "stuff" in it. Meaning, things other than cranberries. He then proceeded to list things like apples, raisins, nuts, old tires, roadsigns, and things even more ridiculous, until DangerBoy couldn't breathe from laughing so hard, and his lips started turning blue. So, being the thoughtful Dad he is, he stopped. When DangerBoy caught his breath, he started up again. My husband is hilarious if you catch him at a good time.

Sorry, no clever ending to my story this time. We had a pleasant holiday with no bickering, no bad feelings, just our little family enjoying each other and having fun together.

If only every day could be so nice -- the world would be a better place.

Or at least our little corner of it.

No-Bake Fake Twinkies

2005-11-09T21:44:00.001-05:00

This is my own copycat recipe for Twinkies.
Tastes like the real thing (at least to me, it does).
Plus you don't even have to light the oven!!

No-Bake Fake Twinkies

24 servings
48 hrs prep

2 lbs lard
1 cup sugar

Thoroughly cream lard and sugar.
Use this mixture to fill a pastry bag.
Set aside.

Get a foam rubber seat cushion from your living room. Remove upholstery from seat cushion. Cut the foam rubber into 24 rectangular shapes, approximately 1 1/2" by 1 1/2 " by 4". Save remainder foam rubber for another use.

Fill your sink with hot soapy water, and wash the foam rubber pieces, rinsing carefully. Spread out on towel to dry thoroughly, turning after 1 day.

When thoroughly dry, plunge a red-hot knitting needle through the narrow end, and quickly remove. Be sure to wear heatproof gloves for this step. Repeat for each piece of foam rubber.

Fill the resulting tunnels using the pastry bag.

Arrange on doily-lined plastic plate and serve.

No need to refrigerate leftovers.

Will keep for years.

Hurry, try this before all the tomatoes are gone!

2005-09-29T23:10:00.001-04:00

Lucky you -- you get a story, a recipe, then a poem at the end.

The best way to eat fresh tomatoes! (In my mostly-humble opinion)

This little "recipe" is the reason we look forward to the end of summer, to the time when our gardens and our friends gardens are bursting with little red-skinned treasures. When I tell anyone about this, besides my brother and sister -- we learned it from Mom -- and my children -- now that I've gotten them to try it -- they think I'm weird (well...yes, I am, but this isn't why). People looked at me oddly when I made this in the college cafeteria. At least I thought that was the reason. It never tasted right, though. I think the foodservice tomatoes were plastic. My husband seems to shudder if he sees me or the kids consuming this treat, but then, he hates warm peanut butter. Period. Won't touch it. So, we take pity and don't make him watch.

I haven't managed to get any of my in-laws to give it a try; my husband's Dad just looks at me and shakes his head. Come to think of it, I get a lot of that from him. So, what is this food that so many people find so repulsive that they won't even
consider it? I just call it exactly what it is: Peanut Butter and Tomatoes on Toast.

If you're intrigued, the extremely difficult and intricate recipe follows below. If you think I'm weird, get in line. Grossed out? Get over it, and try it already. I thought it was pretty gross the first time I saw my Mom eating it, too, but she made me take a bite, and I was hooked.

Now, don't go "EEEWWW!!!" before you try it!

1 slice of a dense bread - preferably rye, but whole wheat will work (no white!)

Peanut Butter (creamy is preferable, but crunchy will do)

Real Tomatoes, the homegrown kind, thickly sliced (Do not attempt this with those pink plastic rocks in the grocery stores, or I will find you and hurt you)

Cracked Black Pepper - an absolute must

Sea Salt, if desired

Toast the bread.

Spread peanut butter on HOT toast.

If you're concerned with calories-- You don't have to lay it on really thick, just make sure you can taste it.

Now, completely cover the toast with tomato slices, cutting the sliced tomatoes in halves or quarters, if necessary, to accomplish this task.

Sprinkle liberally with black pepper, and add just a bit of salt, if desired.

Eat while toast is still hot.

If it gets cold, throw away and start over.

Well, I'd probably eat it anyway, but it's not as good cold.

Try it, you'll like it. Trust me on this-- the salty peanut butter is just wonderful with the tomatoes, and at least a little bit of pepper is necessary.

I know, you're going EEEWWWWWW! But if you give it a shot, who knows-- Maybe this is how you can find your inner weirdo.

And now, the poem. It has been recycled from my July 12, 2003 post. But, it's still delicious. And it is apropos, though thoroughly pedestrian.

Ahem.

Tomato 'n Peanut Butter Toast

Don't you look at me like that
and don't you start to mutter
just you shut your mouth right now
and pass that peanut butter

So, roll your big, brown eyes at me
While I slice my tamater
And, in quiet reverence, contemplate
This gift from the Creator

Now, I won't make you try it
Don't like it? I don't care
Coz it's just that much more for me
If I don't have to share.

Thank you, I'll be here all week.