Pioneer Woman - All Feeds

Lifelong Connections

Sun, 12 Jul 2009 09:42:58 -0700

I just spent 48 hours with eight women I grew up with. Some, I’ve known since birth; others, elementary school, junior high, high school. Though we all saw one another at our 20-year reunion a couple of years ago, this is the first time we’ve all assembled as a group, cooked together, relaxed, and reveled in having no plastic toys to pick up or laundry to do.

We regressed, is what we did.

In future posts, I’ll show all the photos in which we’re bawling our eyes out, bringing up the past, hashing things out, talking things through, and playing quarters. But for today, I wanted to show some laughing, smiling faces from our weekend mini-reunion. It’s impossible for me to watch another person laugh and not feel better about the world.

Awww, Shelley. She’s a sweet, sweet girl and I love her. Shelley’s seven months pregnant with her third, and she looks exactly the same as she did the day we graduated.

Except for the pregnant part.

That’s Becky on the left. I’ve known her longer than I’ve known myself. Our mothers went to high school together and we were best friends in utero. Becky and I used to be bedwetters when we were little and would only spend the night at each other’s house because we knew we wouldn’t have to worry about wetting the bed. For this and other reasons, we’ll be friends into eternity.

Womb to tomb.

Birth to earth.

I’ve known Becky the longest. And ironically, I’ve known the other girl in the photo—the girl to Becky’s left—the shortest.

I’ve known her…for just 48 hours, in fact.

She’s Dorothy, sister-in-law of Kathy, with whom I’ve been friends since seventh grade. Dorothy’s married to Kathy’s brother, a member of Reckless Kelly, and was brave enough to attend a weekend reunion of former high school friends, none of whom she knew.

She wins the prize for Good Sport for listening to a houseful of women cackle about experiences she had nothing to do with. Bless her soul.

Do you ever get together with old friends? Friends who’ve known you through braces, broken hearts, and the onset of menses, in no particular order?

(Sorry, men. Please forget you ever read that last sentence.)

It made me realize how important it is to maintain lifelong connections, even if you only get together once or twice in a twenty year period. You don’t have to talk on the phone…or write regularly…or organize frequent reunions.

It’s just so reassuring to find out how “exactly the same” everyone is.

Except for the absence of fingerless neon gloves.

And acid wash zipper leg Guess jeans, dangit.

And huge clip-on bows.

And turquoise mascara.

And that extremely unfortunate “bi-level haircut.” Goodness gracious. If that’s not a euphemism for “mullet”, I don’t know what is.

LONG LIVE THE EIGHTIES!

Oh, and speaking of lifelong connections, Dorothy made one of her own this weekend.

I think it’s a friendship that will last into eternity, much like me and my odd friend Becky.

Don’t quote me on this, but I think I actually saw them exchanging email addresses.

I Love BlueQ

Fri, 10 Jul 2009 05:47:23 -0700

Generally speaking, I only give away products here on Pioneer Woman that I love, use, and enjoy in my own life. You won’t see me having many giveaways for weedeaters, accounting software, or bananas.

Today’s giveaway is no exception.

I’d like to introduce you to BlueQ. I’m a huge fan of their fun, whimsical, yummy products.

BlueQ’s bath and body products are what snagged me. This soap is very delicious.

Have you seen the “Miso Pretty” line of bath gel and lotion? Betsy gave me some for my birthday a few years ago, and I was instantly in love, both with the packaging and the scent. Here’s what it looks like:

I love BlueQ’s packaging. It’s so frilly and playful.

Then there’s this. I’ve talked about this before. The “Wild Flower” scent in the Boss Lady line is…

Well, it’s out of this world.

Now, here’s the thing about BlueQ stuff: it’s funny. Here is a magnet set depicting different men crying.

I realize this fits under the heading of “Why is this necessary in life?”

But that’s what’s so fun about it.

I’m sorry…but Wash Away Your Sins towelettes?

I’m a good churchgoing girl. And I just think these are charming.

A piggy bank. Ho ho ho.

Two different kinds of breath spray.

And now.

Please find your pregnancy and childbirth humor for just a sec.

I’ll wait.

I dare you to stick this in your next baby shower gift.

This is actually filled with some great, practical advice.

It’s just that the humor sort of takes over and before you know it, you’re laughing instead of reading.

Speaking of laughing…this is my favorite spread in the book. It warns about what happens when you have a baby. Suddenly you’re shunned by your single friends.

Ha ha. Ho ho. Heh heh. Look at her face!

I’m sorry. It’s been a long week.

Now. Here we go. This is what I really love. BlueQ has a whole line of bags made from…are you ready?

Recycled grain sacks and plastic water bottles. They’re brightly colored and fun, and pretty much last forever…which is what the plastic water bottles would have done in some landfill somewhere.

There are cute little coin purses…

Always with a little bit of playful sarcasm.

And there are medium-sized pouches for make-up and things.

I think what I love about BlueQ is the color. Everything is so bright, so colorful, so vivid and dramatic.

Someone please pick me up off the floor now. I think I just died.

You can find BlueQ products all over the place—I know Whole Foods and Central Market-type places carry their bath products. You can also order directly from their website. It’s a fun place, a cool vibe, a great diversion from the everyday grind.

BlueQ Website

But today, because I love the stuff, I’m giving away three (3) $300 BlueQ shopping sprees, which will be able to buy the winners a heck of a lot of fun stuff.

To enter the contest, just answer the following question in the Comments section of this post:

“What’s the last fun thing you purchased?”

Was it a cool lipstick yesterday? A flouncy top last month? Or is the last fun thing you remember buying that Rubik’s cube in 1983? Just reach inside yourself and share your last fun purchase and you’re automatically entered to win a shopping spree at BlueQ.

THE RULES

One entry per person, please.

No entries after 11:30 pm Pacific Time Friday.

Winners will be chosen at random and announced over the weekend.

Good luck!

CONTEST TIME HAS ENDED - WINNERS WILL BE ANNOUNCED SUNDAY

SlotRadio Wieners!

Fri, 10 Jul 2009 05:01:32 -0700

Here are the wieners (and winners) of the SlotRadios!

#971 Karen Johnsoon
#1546 Sarah Wagner
#5006 Teddy
#8356 Cheryl I
#11452 Laura_at_OHOJN

Contact prizes@thepioneerwoman.com to claim your cute little numbers.

Thanks, everyone, for playing! Another SlotRadio giveaway coming in the next couple of weeks.

Tolerant

Fri, 10 Jul 2009 04:29:12 -0700

Okay. Charlie’s taking this Alpha Dog thing a bit too far. Without the slightest provocation, he moved on from our puppy McCormick…and started in on sweet, innocent Lady.

And she is innocent, make no mistake about it. Sweet, sweet, precious, darling, perfect Lady. She’s never done anything wrong in her life.

Well, except for this: Lady chases birds. This is her “activity.” All Border Collies have one. With Nell, she did more conventional Border Collie things like chase water as it came out of the water hose, and chase soccer balls. Nell also herded the other dogs on a regular basis and chased the tires of the kids’ bikes. These were all in line with normal Border collie behavior.

Lady is different. While she shares Nell’s loving temperament, she has absolutely no interest in soccer balls; we’ve tried and tried to get her engaged in the game, but she doesn’t get it. She also cares nothing about water; if we turn on the hose, she simply comes over to the hose and takes a drink with her little pink tongue. Nell never took a drink from a hose in her life; she was too busy crouching on the ground, discerning how she could herd the stream of water and get it under control.

Lady, besides just being a sweet, loyal, precious animal, just chases birds all day. She does the Border Collie Crouch and waits for birds to fly by, jumping and barking if they get the least bit close. A few birds at our homestead—barn swallows—have even turned it into a game, swooping down and attempting to peck her every now and then. This just feeds the wild beast. You can’t get Lady’s attention when she’s in Bird Chasing Mode.

I’m wondering if this bird chasing is some sort of mutated Border Collie instinct. She did spend the first year of her life tied to a leash in a back yard before we adopted her; maybe her instinct just wasn’t allowed to break loose and develop?

Or, as is likely the case and I’m going to wind up being embarrassed, is chasing birds under the scope of normal Border Collie behavior? If it is, please disregard paragraphs 3 through 6. Thank you.

Oh, those Border Collie eyes. Anyone who’s owned a Border Collie knows those eyes. So earnest. So knowing. So soulful. She’s looking straight at me, communicating so clearly what’s going through her mind. And that is this:

“I do not want this dog to chew on me. This dog has bad breath. This dog has never learned how to bathe properly. But I’m willing to take one for the team and tolerate this with the grace and dignity of my breed if it means you’ll sit there and look at me and pay attention to me a little longer.”

Have I mentioned Border Collies need a lot of love and affirmation? They’ll sit at your feet and look into your eyes and the second you pat their head and say, “Good girl,” they’ll die a thousand deaths of happiness.

Basset Hounds do, too. But you’ll never catch them admitting that.

I’m so glad I can run these canine matters by all of you. I don’t know who I ever discussed these things with before you came into my life.

Photoshop. A Camera. And Fatty.

Thu, 09 Jul 2009 18:47:06 -0700

I have a friend. His name is Elden. He’s also known as Fat Cyclist, or “Fatty” to his friends…though that moniker no longer applies.

Fatty and I have been friends ever since we were thrust into competition against each other for a Bloggie award three years ago. He’s a great guy and I just love him. He has a sweet, sweet family.

On his site, Fat Cyclist, Elden/Fatty mostly writes about death-defying trails and gunk running out of his nose (gross, Fatty) and other world-altering stuff like that. But recently, he’s been writing more and more about Susan, his wife of (nearly) 21 years…and her horrible fight with breast cancer. (Here’s something he just wrote today.)

During their battle, Elden and Susan have gotten a lot of help (amazing help) from the Lance Armstrong Foundation, and Elden has been working hard to turn their awful experience into something good. Comprised of Fatty’s friends, family, and loyal blog readers, “Team Fatty” has worked hard to raise money for the foundation, and are working on meeting an fantastic fundraising goal.

When Fatty asked me recently if I’d like to get involved, the first thing I said was this: “Do I have to get on a bike?” I was frantic.

“No,” was his simple reply.

“Well…do I have to sweat?” I inquired.

Then I continued, “Do I have to leave my house?”

He answered, “No, freak.”

Then I said, “Perfect! I’ll have a giveaway!”

Then he said a prayer for me.

Today, in honor of Elden, Susan, their family, and the great work the Lance Armstrong Foundation does, I’m holding two different giveaways. One, here on my site, is a straight-up giveaway for three (3) copies of Adobe Photoshop CS4, the Mac Daddy of photo editing programs.

Man, do I love Photoshop. It makes me want to be a better man. Woman.

Never mind.

The second giveaway is a raffle, which I’ve never done before…but in this case I’ll make an exception.

I have donated a brand new Nikon D80, lens included to Team Fatty, and Elden is giving it away, along with a copy of Photoshop CS4, “rafflle style” through his Lance Armstrong Foundation page. If you have the inclination, you can buy “tickets” for that drawing—every $5 donation will get you one “virtual ticket” for the camera, which is only for my friends, Romans, and countrymen who visit from this site. Elden will draw the winner on Monday, July 13, and I’ll announce it here (or, if the winner prefers, I’ll keep the winner under wraps.)

Let me emphasize that nothing is required of you to win a prize today. Anyone is welcome to enter to win one of three (3) copies of full-version Photoshop CS4 here on PW. But if you’d like to enter to win the camera, you can enter to win that, too!

Here are the details:

TWO CONTESTS/GIVEAWAYS

1. 3 COPIES OF ADOBE PHOTOSHOP: (Three winners) To enter the contest for one of three copies of Adobe Photoshop CS4, just answer the following question in the Comments section of this post:

“What do you fight in your life?”

Since fighting cancer is the theme today, I thought it would be interesting to hear about all of your “fights”. And they don’t have to be heavy, serious, or personal if you’d rather not go there. For instance, I fight laundry. I also fight the urge to eat chocolate 24 hours a day. Share as little or as much as you’d like—just keep it in the “fight” theme and you’re entered to win!

________________________________

2. NIKON D80 (WITH LENS) AND COPY OF ADOBE PHOTOSHOP CS4: (One winner) To enter the raffle for the Nikon D80 and copy of Photoshop CS4, visit Fatty’s Livestrong page. For every $5 donation you make, you will receive one “virtual” ticket. Buy as many or as few as you’d like. Winner will be drawn only from among PW friends who donate.

Photoshop winners will be announced this weekend. Camera/Photoshop winner will be announced Monday.

Thank you for participating!

And thank you to Fatty and Susan…and everyone else who bravely fights this stupid, idiotic disease.

PHOTOSHOP CONTEST TIME HAS ENDED - Winners of the Photoshop copies will be announced late (Sunday).

Fat Cyclist Camera Raffle entry time will end 11:00 Pacific Time Monday. Winner announced Monday afternoon!

Alpha Dog

Thu, 09 Jul 2009 05:27:47 -0700

Please note: I apologize for the following photos.

It’s just that we have this new puppy, you see—this playful, energetic puppy.

And someone has to put him in his place.

Charlie volunteers for this task daily. He’s the Alpha Dog, after all. He has to hold on to his position.

Pardon me while I stand back a bit. I don’t want to lose any fingers.

I also don’t want to smell any dog breath. *Waves hand in front of face.*

One thing’s for certain: Charlie is NOT going to put up with it.

Oh dear.

Oh man.

Oh gross.

Why do I have the sudden urge to brush my teeth?

I think I’ll use a little extra toothpaste this morning.

And I’ll probably go ahead and floss again.

His Own Sense of Order

Wed, 08 Jul 2009 07:55:56 -0700

(Posted by: Heather L. Sanders of Oh My Stinkin’ Heck)

Summer has been a joy. We are still reading, writing and doing some arithmetic, but our main objective has been to see how often, and for how long, we can get wet. Sprinklers, pools, dog baths, playing in the rain, sweat…y’know, wet!

Today, like most Wednesdays, is an indoor day. Once a week I declare “indoor days” so I can get work done and the kids can watch a Netflix, color, read, sew, or anything else their imagination thinks up to do inside.

While you might think it mundane, I find my kids need this day - and surprisingly, look forward to it. They sleep later than usual, they linger on the couch and with each other, and it seems to fill up the “well” of energy they drain throughout the rest of the week.

This morning when I took a break from work I found Kenny in the schoolroom testing markers. It irritates him when he starts to use a marker before he realizes the marker has seen better days.

It destroys his sense of order.

He has to start his picture all over, because “LOOK AT THIS MOMMA! The marker DRIED UP!”

There is no point in suggesting he color over the dried-up marker portion of his creation with a different marker. Any good Momma knows how OBVIOUS that is - and how POORLY it would reflect on his artistic capabilities.

I’m always learning.

So, he set about to rid the house of old and dry markers. Oh, and also markers that “annoy” him (though I didn’t quite get the reasoning behind that designation).

In case it isn’t apparent, the boy is orderly; not neat or even clean, necessarily, but orderly. By the end of the day he had multiple sheets like this one. Each one displaying his “test” of all the markers, including some pencils and Crayolas.

The school table was comprised of three sections: working markers that go back in the bucket; dried markers and pencils he wanted to throw away; and the last group, pencils that needed to be sharpened.

Yes, he did this all on his own.

It took him just under 2 hours to complete the task. The boy is nothing if not diligent.

I sat a bit and talked with him while he worked, but he was remarkably quiet and attentive to his task. Just look at him pressing those lips.

I think I even see a few bulging vessels across his forehead.

After all, this is hard work…

…and requires intense thought.

Since he would not be deterred from his task to satisfy my desire for conversation, I snuck into his room to capture some more evidence of this 6 year old’s methods.

Here you can see a Lego creation - lined up by style and color coded.

Even the lego skulls, skeletons, and yellow thing-a-ma-bobs from my old lego set are grouped.

I love that all my old Legos are mixed-in with his. I’m sentimental like that.

And this is…an antenna??

Moving on…

I think the tackle box of Matchbox cars is perhaps my favorite display of Kenny’s sense of order. Jeff was just about to throw out this tackle box after a recent visit to Gander Mountain, otherwise known as “THE MAN STORE” before Kenny called dibs.

He didn’t even know why he wanted it at the time, but within a few short minutes, he figured out he could easily sort his favorite cars in the old tackle box, each to their own divided section.

I wish I had a photo of him sorting his “favorites” from his “not really my favorites”.

The tackle box is a bit beat up, the hinges are loose, and a portion of the plastic is broken off on the outer latch, but to Kenny, it is his Daddy’s tackle box - in HIS room.

While I’m certain he won’t be catching any fish with this tackle, he definitely found a few keepers anyway.

And like his Momma, when everything is nice and organized, there is a sense of peace to his world.

You and Me Against the World

Wed, 08 Jul 2009 05:14:02 -0700

I love watching the behavior of wild horses. There’s always…something going on.

For example, It always interests me that similarly-colored horses always seem to congregate together. Why is that? There are no mirrors on the prairie. How does a horse instinctively know which horses look most like her?

And this is not my imagination, unlike most of my other ideas and theories. This is a proven fact: the bay horses are always over here in a cluster; the black horses are over there; the blond/buckskin horses are hanging out over there. Someone please explain it to me. Is it, indeed, instinct? A way to ensure continuation of their color bloodline? As the daughter of a physician, I feel compelled to dig to the bottom of this matter right away and examine the empirical evidence surrounding the evidential findings and verification and the corroboration and the substantiation of the data.

And the tort.

Wait. That’s law.

Moving on…

Another interesting behavior is the fact that certain horses here and there, for whatever reason, seem to be marginalized, shunned, cast out—not unlike a child who’s left out of playground games or a boy no one wants to sit with in the lunchroom. I don’t know why this happens, but it does generally seem to have something to do with the horses in question being either weaker than average…or white. The white horses with the icy blue eyes just don’t seem to have a lot of friends at all. And as you’ll see in this series of photos, having a colt with a “normal” appearance really does nothing to improve their standing.

Ouch! The mama of the colt—the white mare—moved in to have a snack. That’s all she did. She didn’t touch anyone or bother a soul, and she was run off within seconds.

Let’s have a closer look.

Oh, the agony. The agony of marginalization.

Haven’t we all felt this sting at one point or another? Mine was ninth grade. I think people were afraid of getting an electric shock from my brace face mangle mouth.

But we’ll cover that another time.

You gotta hand it to mama, though—homegirl goes right back in and tries again.

And while it looks promising at first…

She’s hassled out of the crowd as her curious colt watches.

*Cue Helen Reddy Music*

You and me against the world…
Sometimes it feels like you and me against the world
When all the others turn their backs and walk away
You can count on me to staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay….

Sometimes country life is really depressing.

Another interesting behavior here is the fact that horses only seem to want the grass the other horses are eating. I’ve never understood this. Have they looked around lately? Um, there’s plenty of grass, amigas! I’ll never understand why some of these ladies don’t just take a few steps north and feast away in peace…like I always did when I used to go to Luby’s Cafeteria by myself while I was pregnant with my second child. I wouldn’t worry about fitting in; I’d just park myself at a distant table in the corner and go to TOWN. Who needs company when you’re eating macaroni and cheese, wilted spinach, and haddock almondine?

These horses could learn so much from us, if only they’d allow their eyes to be opened.

Vanilla Bean Ice Cream

Wed, 08 Jul 2009 03:43:10 -0700

Once I took a bite of the Blackberry Ice Cream I made last week, I knew I’d found the ice cream recipe I’d been looking for. I substituted half-and-half for the whole milk called for in so many recipes, beat the egg yolk with an electric mixer, and who knows what else…but it worked. The consistency was creamy, smooth, and wonderful.

The next day, I grabbed a vanilla bean from my pantry and set out to make a plain vanilla version, to which I knew I could add all sorts of modifying ingredients in the future: peaches, cherries, (Cherry Vanilla ice cream, anyone? I thought so.), espresso, etc. But I knew I had to get vanilla right before I could go on to the next phase of my life.

I also doubled the quantity, which required a little tweaking of the number of egg yolks and time required to freeze the ice cream after making it in the ice cream maker. The finished product was just divine, and so perfect with a big slice of warm chocolate sheet cake (pssst: I didn’t use pecans in the icing this time. I wanted it to be pure and unadulterated and not crunchy…and I was glad I didn’t.)

Let’s make vanilla ice cream! It’s the right thing to do.

THE MILK/SUGAR:

In a large pan, combine 3 cups of half-and-half…

With 2 cups sugar.

Mix together, then warm up over low heat.

Now, in a separate bowl, pour 3 cups heavy (whipping) cream.

Cream. Half and half. I just love ice cream, don’t you?

THE VANILLA:

First: here’s a vanilla bean. No vanilla extract will impart the beautiful, pure flavor that one of these babies will.

Vanilla beans are strange little suckers, aren’t they?

Now, what we actually need to do is get out what’s inside of the bean. So grab a small, sharp knife and split the bean down the middle.

Inside you’ll see the rich, flavorful “caviar”. The vanilla flavor—and oh, aroma—is not to be believed.

Now, just use the knife and scccccrrrrrrrrape along the inside of the bean to extract all of it. Don’t leave any behind!

As the half-and-half/sugar mixture is simmering, throw the “caviar” right in.

Stir it together…and watch the delicious little specks spread their love all over the land. You can also throw in the “empty” vanilla bean during the simmering process—there’s a lot of flavor in there still!

THE EGG YOLKS:

Now, although I used five egg yolks (large) in the blackberry ice cream, only 8 to 9 egg yolks are plenty for a larger batch of vanilla. After that, the ice cream gets a little…a little…egg yolky.

Beat the egg yolks with an electric mixer until they’re light and fluffy…

Then, whisking constantly, very slowly drizzle some of the hot half-and-half/cream mixture into the bowl with the egg yolks. This will “temper” the egg yolks and get them used to the warmth before you add them to the rest of the hot liquid.

If you don’t do this, they’re much more apt to cook the second they hit the high temperature.

AND WE CAN’T HAVE THAT!

After you’ve whisked in a cup or two of liquid, go ahead and pour the tempered egg yolks into the pan with the rest of the half-and-half mixture. Whisk or stir the whole time, just to ease the yolks into their new environment.

Now cook this mixture, whisking or stirring gently throughout the process…

It will eventually thicken into a sweet, delicious custard…which is what we want.

Oh, it’s definitely what we want.

Now you can pour the custard into the bowl with the heavy cream. (Normally I’d strain it before adding it in, but I want to keep all the vanilla bean flecks. And really, I didn’t really notice any adverse effects from not straining.)

Stir together until the mixture is totally combined.

*Very Important*—be sure to go back and scrape the custard from the bottom of the pan with a spoon. Then place the spoon in your mouth and groan for the next three hours.

Oh, boy. Is it ever good.

Now, chill the whole thing in the fridge for at least two hours before running it through the ice cream maker. Or, if you’re in a hurry, you can place the bowl over a larger bowl packed with ice and stir for a good ten minutes as you speed-chill it. Either was works fine!

Pour the custard mixture into the bowl of your ice cream maker.

Now you just layer ice…

With ice cream salt.

Then turn it on to churn…and walk away!

I didn’t get a photo of this part, but after the ice cream is finished freezing in the ice cream maker, it will still be very soft—the consistency of soft serve. Serve it right away if that’s your preference, but it’s really much better if you spoon the soft ice cream into a separate container, cover it, then freeze it for several hours. This will turn it into the real, live, frozen ice cream we all know and love.

Note: since I doubled the recipe, it honestly took eight hours in the freezer to freeze to the proper consistency. So make it the day before just to be sure!

Now, as delicious as pure vanilla ice cream is, I just think it requires an accompaniment of chocolate. I opted for chocolate sheet cake, no nuts.

And it turned out to be the perfect pairing!

I just love it when everything in the universe lines up.

Make this soon. It’s summer!

Enjoy.

Delicious Vanilla Bean Ice Cream

1 vanilla bean, split and scraped

3 cups half-and-half
2 cup sugar

8 to 9 large egg yolks

3 cups heavy cream

Heat half-and-half and 2 cups sugar in a separate saucepan over low heat, adding vanilla “caviar” to the mixture. (You can also drop in the scraped vanilla bean, just to extract all the flavor. Discard before moving to the next step.) Turn off heat when mixture is totally heated.

Add heavy cream to a separate bowl.

Beat egg yolks by hand or with an electric mixer until yolks are pale yellow and slightly thick.

Temper the egg yolks by slowly drizzling in 1 1/2 cups of hot half-and-half mixture, whisking constantly. After that, pour the egg yolk/half-and-half mixture into the pan containing the rest of the half-and-half mixture. Cook over low to medium-low heat (depending on how hot your stove gets) until quite thick, stirring constantly. Drain custard using a fine mesh strainer, then pour into the bowl with the cream. Stir to combine.

Chill mixture completely, then freeze in an ice cream maker until thick. Place container in freezer to harden for at least eight hours.

Serve with something chocolate! Or, if you’re in a bind, serve with blackberry cobbler. (I won’t tell anyone.)

Enjoy!

Edna Mae’s Escalloped Cabbage Recipe

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 07:48:35 -0700

Food snobs: park your prejudice at the door!

Please?

Pretty please?

Because if you don’t, you may well miss out on this utterly delicious potluck dish that Marlboro Man’s grandmother, Edna Mae, brought to our house on the Fourth of July.

(And okay, if you absolutely refuse to use a “certain” processed cheese product that’s sold in jars *ahem*, I’ll bet you could whip up a homemade cheese sauce and use it instead. That’s what makes America free!)

Here’s the recipe. I recommend it without reservation! (As with Billie’s Italian Cream Cake recipe from yesterday, I’ll be sure to cook this at a later date and show you the detailed photos. But for those of you eager to try it, I wanted to get the recipe posted!)

Edna Mae’s Escalloped Cabbage

1 head of cabbage
1 15-ounce jar of original Cheez Whiz (Yes. I said Cheez Whiz)
1 can cream of chicken soup (Please don’t hate. Appreciate!)
1 to 2 fresh jalapenos, seeded and finely diced (1 is pretty spicy; 1 is very spicy)
1/4 cup milk
Paprika for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Slice cabbage into six to eight pie shaped slices. Remove hard inner core.
Parboil slices until nearly done but still slightly firm. Drain very well, then arrange in a buttered 9 x 13-inch dish.
Mix Cheez Whiz, cream of chicken soup, and milk. Pour over the top of the cabbage.
Sprinkle with paprika, then bake for 30 minutes or until golden and bubbly.

Scrumptious!

A Fun Little (Literally!) Giveaway

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 07:17:24 -0700

This is a SlotRadio.

A SlotRadio is a nifty little portable music device thingie…

Hello, cutie pie.

I love little things. Little cans of pop. Little puppies. Little cowboy boots.

But here’s the kicker: they come with a card packed full of preloaded songs, all ready to be piped into your ears and make your soul sing.

I told you it was nifty!

So here’s the little slot.

And here’s the tiny card packed with music.

All you do is stick the card in the slot…

Stick the earphones in your cute little ears…and go about your life!

As the music is playing, the player displays the artist and song (and genre) that’s playing.

And it allows you to scroll through not just the genre (can I say genre a few more times?), but also the song that’s playing.

I love things I can wrap my feeble brain around.

Today, because it’s Tuesday, because my eyes are puffy, and because I’m getting ready to go walk 8,453 miles with these earphones stuck in my ears in an effort to drop twenty pounds in four hours (wish me luck!), I’m giving away five (5) SlotRadios like the one you see here.

To enter the contest, just answer the following question in the Comments section of this post:

“What do you do to get your daily exercise?”

I wish someone had warned me about the sedentary nature of blogging. Even with four kids, many cows, and an energetic husband, I still find I have to work extra hard to counteract the effects of the extra computer time in my life. So how do you get your heart pumping? Do you walk? Run? Do the elliptical? Take tae kwon do classes? Chase chickens around in your yard? Just share your favorite form of daily exercise and you’re automatically entered to win.

THE RULES

One entry per person, please.

No entries after 11:00 p.m. Pacific Time Tuesday.

Winners will be announced Friday morning.

Good luck!

___________________________________

Contest sponsored by SlotRadio and Pioneer Woman. (Thanks, Slot, for the prizes!)

Dear Pioneer Woman

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 05:33:49 -0700

There were some leftover questions from last week’s Dear Pioneer Woman (think Dear Abby…but not) sessions. Leaving them unanswered was plaguing me, much like a leftover dot on the Ms. Pac Man board used to plague me.

(New questions and answers will be posted here throughout the day.)

Dear Pioneer Woman,

I have been engaged for 6 months. I was absolutely shocked when my fiance proposed on Christmas, as we had been doing nothing but fighting for the month beforehand. I said yes, but have yet to start planning the wedding. My fiance is very nice and smart and funny, but sometimes a little too funny. He does everything for a laugh, and doesn’t seem to mind whose feelings (often mine) get hurt in the process. He is also a HUGE Mama’s boy (his mother still shops for him and does his laundry on the weekends - he’s approaching 32 years old). I love him very much and have told him I want to go to premarital counseling before we start planning a wedding, but he flat out refuses. I say with over 50% of marriages ending in divorce, we should deal with some of our “issues” now, and get the tools to deal with even bigger issues if and when they appear in our marriage, but that does little to persuade him!

Signed,
Eternally Engaged

Dear Eternally,

Can I just put something out there? Here it is: Marriage does not magically improve or eliminate all preexisting issues and concerns, of which you appear to have several. I’m not exceedingly concerned about his mother doing his shopping for him, doing his laundry, etc., as long as he’s working and living on his own. Some mamas just love doing laundry, and when their nest is empty they feel lost and alone. I can not relate to this, by the way.

But the fact that you say the two of you had done nothing but fight for the months preceding his proposal worries me; it’s almost as if he’s attempting to band-aid the situation by putting an engagement ring on your finger. The “doing everything for a laugh” isn’t necessarily problematic…unless, of course, it’s problematic for you! And the fact that he “flat out refuses” something that’s important to you (i.e. premarital counseling) suggests somewhat that he’s more interested in asserting his will than finding compromise, and here’s a news flash for ya: the chances this will magically improve the day you get married, and the years to follow, are very slim.

A spell seems to come over us women types when someone suddenly proposes. We might feel as though better offers won’t come down the line…or, perhaps, it’s just too much of a hassle to start over. But I would suggest that surging on and going through with a marriage that ran counter to your original hunches to begin with could—I’m just saying could here—mean a lifetime of struggle, difficulty, and wondering what might have happened had you gone with your gut in the first place.

Sounds to me like you shoudn’t get in any hurry to get hitched.

________________________________________

Dear PW:

OK, so I’m divorced, reasonable looking, have a career, I’m a great cook, love animals and children, am active in my church, have friends that I do stuff with so it’s not like I don’t get out but I can’t get a date to save my ever lovin’ life. What the heck is wrong with me? I do have criteria - no axe murders, no alcoholics, no druggies, should have a steady job, could be divorced but if the ex is like Glenn Close its a no go, kids OK- I love kids (even the goat kind), should love dogs, and he can’t live with his mother. Other than that I’m open.

Where do you go to meet guys? Bars are out, I’ve tried the church singles group but, and I’m being kind, there wasn’t anyone there without a cane or a walker or a rolodex full of psychiatrists’ business cards. The online thing is a little scary. What would you recommend?

Love,
Scoping in Seattle

Dear Scoping,

Can I ask you something that’s somewhat counter-cultural without your taking it the wrong way? Yes? Okay, good. Thank you.

Are you happy on a day-to-day basis? Do you go to bed feeling somewhat content? You say you have a career, love to cook, go to church, have friends.

If so, my question is this: why the push to insert a man into this scenario?

Now, before everyone rolls their eyes, let me just say that I’m not approaching this from an ultra-feminist, we-don’t-need-no-stinkin’-men to complete us perspective. I’m well aware of the intangible, emotional reasons one craves the company of a man or woman. It’s a natural thing to want. But what if you just decided, at least for the time being, that there is no hole that needs to be filled? That aside from the occasional hankering to touch toes with someone while you watch a movie or hold hands in the park, your life isn’t necessarily devoid of purpose and meaning without a man by your side?

My thinking is this: often when we set our sights on “finding someone special”, or meeting someone to share our lives with, we can start to get tunnel vision and become so focused on meeting someone and settling down that we pay much less attention to whether the person is a good fit. So I would go about it in in the reverse order. Decide that you’re going to continue living your life and building it up on the foundation on which it sits now. Continue your friendships and take pride in your career. If you happen to meet someone who tickles your fancy sometime in the future, you will already have a full life without him and will therefore have the luxury of being able to decide whether you and he are right for each other, rather than the alternative: “you’ve sunk so much time and energy into meeting someone, and now that you finally have, you’re not letting him go no matter what.”

I would now like to acknowledge that the above scenario is much easier said than done.

But that’s what makes it counter-cultural.

________________________________________

Dear Pioneer Woman,

I don’t feel close to my husband. It’s the whole “roommate with kids” thing. We don’t sleep in the same room. We don’t communicate much. We don’t …. you know…much.

There’s so much more to this, but I’m sure you know the song and dance. But I did try to end it. I gave in to him and stayed.

Question is, do I stay with him in this “roommate” stage where we’re nice and friendly to each other? Or do I do it again and actually leave this time? I’m afraid our non-committal to each other is teaching our two girls the wrong lesson about marriage.

Thanks,
___ in Texas (I tried to think of something that starts with T for my predicament, but just don’t have the energy to follow through with it at this moment.)

Dear Tex,

Forgive my pause. I had to think about your question long and hard. My answer is not really an answer, and that’s this: I’m missing so many pieces of the puzzle.

Here’s how this could go:

Is there abuse in the marriage? Infidelity? Addiction?
Is it possible you’re just in a rut?
Have you ever felt love for him? Answer honestly. Don’t rewrite history based on how you’re feeling now.
Is there someone else on your end? Anyone at all?
Is he a meanie?
A butthead?
A jerk?
Is he depressed?
Are you depressed?
Is he actively working on the marriage? Is he committed to making the marriage work?
It sounds like you have 1 1/2 feet out the door, which can be a powerful force.
Is he emotionally closed off?
Or is he too emotional?
Is he a pursuer, and does that make you run away?
Does he leave the toilet seat up?
Wait, forget I asked that.
Have your wants and needs drastically changed since you got married?
Have his?
Do you ever have fun together?
Do you watch movies and laugh?

______________________________________

Now. None of those answers was meant to be concretely answered, Tex. Instead, they were meant to demonstrate how difficult it is for me to give you a response without knowing any other circumstances besides “I don’t feel close with my husband.” (Though in your defense, I realize it’s difficult to lay it all out in one comment.)

So, given that I only have a small part of the picture, here are some general points that might not apply, but I’ll come out with them anyway:

* Don’t fall back on the “it’s better for the children” argument. While that can often be the case in situations of abuse, addiction, or extreme strife and conflict, I would guess that the majority of children would rather the family stay together than split up because the mom and dad don’t communicate all that well. Divorce is devastating to a family, and uprooting for children. I think the line of thinking that you somehow owe it to your kids to set a good example of what marriage should be is reasonable, but I think it could be argued that a valuable lesson can be learned in continuing to love even when you might not feel like it, to value the family and the marriage together…not to consider the marriage and the family mutually exclusive. This is merely my opinion, and I understand counterarguments to this. And I even agree with some of them.

* I really don’t know anything.

* Barring extenuating circumstances, is it possible that the love between you has simply withered on the vine? If you could characterize it this way, is it possible to look at your marriage as a living, breathing thing that could, with care and attention, be salvaged, watered, fed, nourished, cared for? This, obviously, would require a complete turnaround in the way you’re thinking about the marriage at this point. But it is possible. I’ve seen it happen, man.

* Sleeping in separate rooms. No! No, no, no, no, no!

* Unless there’s a snoring issue, then I can understand.

* I’m sorry you’re struggling. I really am.

___________________________________________

Dear P.W.

Why is it that men are only interested in women that look like twigs? I’m smart, successful and really cute! But the big kicker is, I’m 48 and a little overweight!

Love,
Plump in Pittsburgh

Dear Pitt,

I think men, above all else, are interested in women who are happy, confident, and comfortable in their own skin. In my experience, we women are the twig-perpetrators…not men. I, for instance, sometimes wish I was a twig. I sometimes catch myself wishing I had my skinny ballet body back. I rarely see a woman on TV that I find too skinny. (Ally McBeal? Yes.) Often, however, Marlboro Man will point out actresses he would otherwise find attractive “if they’d just gain fifteen or twenty pounds.”

Then I throw my arms around him and kiss him and thank him for saying that.

Then I go eat another Ding Dong.

So no matter what your weight is: Go for a walk in the morning or evening! Buy a couple of great-fitting tops that make you feel delicious. Read things that feed your mind. MOST IMPORTANTLY, freeze two spoons, then lay them backward on your eyes before you go anywhere. You’ll feel like a new woman, I promise.

Thank you Brooke Shields, circa 1980, for that sage piece of beauty advice.

______________________________

Dear Pioneer Woman,

I have given birth two four children. These four children rearranged my midsection to a ghastly degree. I’m not just talking mass or volume here. I’m talking about composition, texture. In short (OH THE HUMANITY!!) my children blessed me with stretch marks that make Death Valley look like an Oasis of pleasure.

Now theoretically I am completely opposed to plastic surgery or anything like that. But deep down this is something that really bothers me. I feel like an accordion. And I hate Polka, okay?

Would it be a crime to want to save up money to have a tummy tuck? Or would that be selfish and obsessive of me? Would that money better be saved to help us perhaps one day adopt a baby that gave someone else stretch marks? These two very different pursuits are on my radar.

Love,
Stretch Armstrong

Dear Stretch,

I don’t believe it would be a crime or obsessive or selfish of you to save money to do something that makes you feel better about yourself after gestating and giving birth four times. I’m not necessarily opposed to plastic surgery. Now, I do think face-altering procedures can be a little tricky because I think people can quickly lose sight of what they’re supposed to look like and before they know it they resemble a kitty cat.

The only thing that scares me a little bit about plastic surgery procedures like tummy tucks, liposuction, etc., is the theoretical risk of something terrible happening on the operating table. The only reason I haven’t gone under the knife—well, aside from the fact that Marlboro Mans ties me up and won’t let me—is the needling feeling that knowing my luck, something would go wrong and then here my kids would be without a mother because I wanted a six pack or size 72DD breasts.

But that’s just me! Really, the risk, while there, is pretty small for young, healthy people. So you just have to weigh the pros and cons.

I will predict that if you start saving up for a procedure, you’ll talk yourself in and out of what you’re saving for about fifty times before you get there.

And you might wind up deciding you’d rather have a new wardrobe and haircut instead.

Or you might use it on car repairs.

Or you might decide you’d rather adopt.

Basically, don’t listen to my incoherence.

I’m going to do Pilates now. And find that really good bra of mine.

Goodbye forever,
Pioneer Woman

Billie’s Italian Cream Cake Recipe

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 16:54:49 -0700

Dear Sweet Billie From My Church kindly shared her Italian Cream Cake recipe with me today.

And now, because you’re equally dear and sweet, I’m sharing it with you.

I’ll bake you one soon with lots of detailed photos, but for now I’ll just revel in the leftovers and simply share the recipe—which really speaks for itself.

If you’ve never listened to me before, and I wouldn’t blame you if you haven’t, please listen to me now:

You want to make this cake.

Billie’s Italian Cream Cake

Cake:
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 stick (1/2 cup) butter
1 cup vegetable oil
2 cups sugar
5 eggs, separated
3 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup flaked coconut (from PW: If you think you hate coconut, trust me: I do too, and I love it in this recipe)
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 cups all purpose flour

Frosting:
2 8-ounce packages cream cheese
1 stick (1/2 cup) butter
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 2-lb package powdered sugar
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup sweetened, flaked coconut

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Grease and flour three 9-inch round cake pans.
Beat egg whites until stiff. Set aside.

Cake:
In a large bowl, cream together butter, oil, and sugar until light and fluffy. Mix in the egg yolks, vanilla, and coconut.
In a separate bowl, mix flour, baking soda, and baking powder.
Alternate adding buttermilk and dry ingredients to wet ingredients.
Mix until just combined, then fold in egg whites.
Pour evenly into the three prepared pans, then sprinkle the top of each pan with 1 (at least) tablespoon sugar.
Bake in preheated oven for 20 to 25 minutes, or until toothpick comes out clean.
Remove from oven and allow to cool for 15 minutes, then turn the cakes out onto cooling racks and allow to cool completely.

Frosting:
In a medium bowl, combine cream cheese, butter, vanilla, and powdered sugar. Beat until light and fluffy. Stir in chopped walnuts and sugared coconut. Spread between layers and serve.

Note: Cream cheese frosting will soften at room temperature, so refrigerate if you won’t use it right away.

___________________________________

Thank you, Billie!

I love you, Billie!

And I really love your cake.

Love,
That crazy woman with the ponytail and the four kids with mismatched shoes who sits in the fifth pew back

P.S. Can I keep your Tupperware cake transporter? Thank you.

A Homeschooling Discussion. By Mrs. G.

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 08:27:25 -0700

Happy to welcome another homeschooling post from Mrs. G., creator of The Women’s Colony. Take it, Mrs. G!

Monday night Mrs. G. was watching Law & Order or something educational on PBS when she bumped the remote and accidentally switched the channel to Wife Swap. One of the wives being swapped was a homeschooler who, once again, confirmed most Americans’ misconceptions about those of us who choose to ejukate educate our kids outside of a traditional school setting: that we are humorless, intolerant, overprotective religious extremist manifesto-writing misfits who chain our 22 children to the kitchen table and teach them that, despite advancements in modern astronomy, the earth is indeed flat; how else would we all not fall off of it?

The Wife Swap’s homeschooling mom lives with her first cousin’s husband and two children on a farm in Iowa. They make every effort to run a self sustaining farm not because they choose a life of volunteer simplicity or wish to leave a softer carbon footprint, but because, like so many of us, they are preparing for the Apocalypse. This family, admirably, raises their own livestock and vegetables and subsists solely on a raw food diet. In other words, they eat only raw food, including their MEAT. And Mrs. G. is not talking about sushi, Carpaccio or lightly seared tuna. These people eat chopped up chunks of raw chicken. They gnaw on raw turkey legs. On special occasions, they indulge in what they call “high meat”—chunks of animal flesh that have been rotting and aging in a jar for at least four days. They aren’t worried about e coli or salmonella because, they insist, God wouldn’t put any bacteria on this earth that was harmful to them.

Now, Mrs. G. is tolerant by nature (and regarded by more than a few folks as odd), but this type of homeschooler is the bane of her existence. It makes her life more difficult in the following ways:

1) The Little League moms sit far away from Mrs. G. during baseball games because they don’t want her to hear them talking about boozing it up over the weekend or their child’s science project on evolution. And this is sad for Mrs. G. (a cradle Catholic) because she is a big fan of alcohol and monkeys.

2) Mrs. G’s relatives feel the need to quiz her children on major holidays with scintillating questions like hey, pass the cranberry sauce, and can you tell me how many quarters there are in a dollar?

3) The women at Mrs. G’s book club, which consists primarily of public school teachers, have a few glasses of wine and say stuff like have you ever noticed how homeschooling boys have such an unhealthy attachment to their mothers or I have this homeschooler in my 7th grade class and she reads at a 3rd grade level and wears a denim jumper and bedroom slippers every single day…and then they remember Mrs. G is a homeschooler and change the subject fast.

4) The cashier at Safeway, eying Mrs. G’s children helping her bag groceries during the middle of a school day, asks if it is a school holiday and when they explain they are homeschoolers, she smiles skeptically and says how interesting and then waxes on for two minutes about how high school was the best time of her life.

The U.S. Census Bureau estimates that there are between 900,000 and 2,000,000 homeschoolers, and the number is growing at a brisk pace. Mrs. G. finds it exhausting to drop all the necessary conversational hints to prevent others from thinking she is a suburban maverick kook who makes her own kefir and eats raw meat. So, readers, here’s the 411 on homeschooling mama Mrs. G:

* Her children are of average intelligence and don’t play any musical instruments. Not even the recorder.

* She is the good kind of feminist…the old school kind who is hung up on that tired old doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights for women…as well as honoring the beauty and, yes, nobility of raising a family.

* Her children watch television, play video games and eat large quantities of processed food.

* When she is not spinning her own wool and milling her own flour…not that there’s anything wrong with that, she enjoys gardening, gin and historical documentaries. And “The Sopranos.”

* She and her husband chose to homeschool for very personal reasons that had nothing to do with religion, politics or any kind of aversion to public school. Until this spring, Mrs. G. taught creative writing part-time in a public school for eight years.

* She doesn’t jump on bandwagons and is turned off by zealots of all stripes. Mrs. G. is absolutely sure about nothing.

* And she prefers her salad raw and her meat cooked.

Next up: Mrs. G. gives you all her best tips on inspiring a reluctant writer. She has never met one she couldn’t motivate.

July 4, 2009

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 05:53:02 -0700

I didn’t even take photos of the fireworks at our house this year.

Because you know what? I figured I could just show you these from 2008.

Or these from 2007.

Or this embarrassing display from 2006, a mere two months after I started this silly blog of mine.

Fireworks, schmireworks. This year, I decided to take photos of the people.

Violent explosives are highly overrated.

Angie Harmon was here. Angie and I are full-on buds.

Lori showed up, too. She’s the wife of Terry, one of the men who did all the work at the Lodge last year, and is one of the smartest, funniest females I know.

This is the daughter of Jerry, Terry’s father, of Terry and Jerry fame.

Are you confused yet?

Oh, what a tangled web we weave when we start trying to figure out who’s related to whom and how. And why.

The Senator drove in from the Big City and wound up running all of our errands for us, bless his legislative heart. I told him not to come back until he had 10 cases of pop, 9,000 beers…and, as it turned out, zero bottles of wine because liquor stores are closed on the Fourth of July ’round these parts.

I’ve never heard of anything so silly, except maybe that wine isn’t sold in grocery stores ’round these parts either.

It’s so difficult to be a wino in Oklahoma. There are all these ROADBLOCKS in the way.

Why can’t Oklahoma just let me be?

The Senator’s daughter. She’s a little peanut of a sweetie.

Unfortunately, this trickster also showed up. He’s three weeks old, and very, very dangerous for me.

And he belongs to…

Matteo and Teresa!

Remember Matteo?

He’s Marlboro Man’s cousin, and he was always searching for true love.

Then he found this woman. Teresa. Dear, sweet Teresa.

Then they got married last summer.

Then this happened.

THIS often tends to happen.

And now.

We interrupt this program to bring you the following images:

Marlboro Man. Doing dishes.

Scrubbing, brushing, scouring dirty pots and pans.

I just love dirty pots and pans.

Lawsie mercy. This ranks up there with the Grand Tetons. Niagara Falls. Yosemite.

And then there’s this.

This is Butch, Angie Harmon’s husband. Butch is a good friend, has imaginary sword fights with my five-year-old, and holds babies.

All reports indicate Angie’s keeping Butch. She likes him. She likes him a lot.

Me? I like this one a lot. I’ve never wanted another baby so much in all my life.

Of course, I say that every other day, or every time I see a baby, whichever comes first.

It’s a sickness, really. And when will it end?

You know what I really love, though? The very end of the party. I can’t explain why. It’s very, very late. The kids are up way past their bedtime. Dishes are strewn all over the kitchen, and no one seems to care.

Least of all me.

(Note that Charlie is now up from his chair and hunting for scraps.)

Cowboy Josh has to harass my boy one last time…

And no one—absolutely no one—is thinking about the cleanup job ahead.

Of course…

That was then.

And this is now.

Happy Monday, my friends! Welcome back to the real world.

Love,
Pioneer Woman

P.S. Anyone have a couple hundred brooms I can borrow?

My Inspiration

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 04:20:55 -0700

By Miz Booshay

I have to say, writing this post has been a blast and a half! When I wrote my last tutorial, I mentioned that I visit my favorite photographers’ blogs and websites for inspiration. Then the questions popped up in the comments:

Who inspires you?
Tell us please!

So I began a week-long emailing and art-collecting journey.

I humbly wrote many of my favorite photographers and asked ever so kindly if they would be willing to share a picture or two for this “Inspirational” post.

Now, you must know this. I do not know any of these wonderful artists. At all.

I just leave happy, gushing comments on their blogs almost every week.

But I couldn’t believe my eyes when emails with famous names started popping up in my inbox.

About these artists. I love their work. I am in awe. I love them. But I love them for different reasons.

Let’s see.

Portrait, Families, Weddings

…and Ree.

I don’t think I would have a digital SLR if it weren’t for Ree.

This lovely picture of Ree’s little gal is still on Ree’s post about the different lenses she uses. It is from many years ago and Ree has upgraded her camera and lenses since then.

But this is the picture that made me run to the store and buy a D80 and a 50mm 1.8.

I thought to myself, this is what I want to be able to do someday.

So even though Ree didn’t know it at the time, her photography reignited a love for photography that had lain dormant for 25 years.

Thank you Ree, I love you more’n my luggage.

_________________________________________

Portraits

I don’t know how I stumbled on to Audrey Woulard’s blog, but I haven’t been the same since. Audrey is a spectacular children’s photographer in Chicago. Audrey’s colorful, tack sharp photographs are perfection. She taught me about the importance of getting the picture right in camera. (I went to one of her workshops.)

We watched her shoot. We watched her process. We watched as she produced those amazing eyes without any special tricks. She is just that good.

Audrey Woulard Blog

Audrey Woulard’s Official Website

_________________________________________

Meet Patti Schmidt

Patti takes the most glorious portraits in the world.

Creamy skin and perfect exposure are her trademark…according to me.

And gorgeous eyes. Yes. Those, too. Look at that skin. How does she do it? I don’t know. (I think she edits in RAW, but I know from her FAQ page that Patti is also a huge fan of getting the exposure perfect in camera. And man, she has the most brilliant touch.

Patti Schmidt Website

Patti Schmidt Blog

Patti works in New Jersey and Hawaii.

Sweet gig!

Thank you, Patti, for sending the wonderful photographs to share!

_________________________________________

Tara Whitney is who you want to take your happy family pictures. Home movies, too!

Tara Whitney’s Blog

Everyone loves Tara! Audrey and Patti had their family pictures taken by Tara.

I learned about Patti from Tara’s blog.

Tara must have a wonderful way about her. She relates and connects with her families like no other. She is a true innovator, which is evidenced by her rockin’ home movies.

Go to her website and watch one of her family movies. You will cry. I promise.

And I have seen things on Tara’s website that are still being copied today. She thinks of a fabulous idea…and then everyone copies her. She is out of is world creative and talented. Her work is not limited to families only. She makes all of her lucky clients SHINE!

Tara Whitney Website

She is the first of the California photographers I will share with you today. There must be something in that ocean water!

_________________________________________

Weddings

Anna Kuperberg is a master. From stunning still life shots to real children, beloved dogs to romance, it’s all so good.

My mouth drops open and I could drool each time she posts a wedding or slide show to her blog.

And the slide shows always have really interesting music. Music I have never heard before but love at first listen.

She is tremendously talented and skilled and I can’t wait for you to meet her if you have not visited her yet!

You must go over and see these pictures at Anna’s website. They look even more stunning large!

Anna Kuperberg Blog

Anna Kuperberg Website

Thank you, Anna. I am honored to share your work here on P-dub’s website!

_________________________________________

Nate and Jac from The Image is Found are cool beyond measure and too young to believe their talent!

Their images are bold and breathtaking and hawt! Or should I say…Radiculous?

They bend the rules and break the rules and have a blast doing it.

Is that not the most wonderful mother and child shot you have ever seen? (That’s Jaclyn with their little boy.) Don’t you love how babies kiss with their mouths wide open like that.

What a masterpiece.

Make sure you visit Nate and Jaclyn and enjoy their remarkable perspective and unique look at the world around them.

The Blog is Found

The Image is Found

Thank you for sharing your spectacularness with us!

_________________________________________

I recently saw an interview with Chris Martin (frontman for Cold Play) and he said their band’s enthusiasm was what made them stand out from the other groups out there.

And when I heard this, I thought of Jasmine Star.

She has the most positive attitude I have ever come across.

She is fabulous. She is enthusiastic. She is talented. She is funny. She is generous. She writes well and takes great care of her blog and her readers.

Her FAQ posts rock!

Jasmine will share everything she knows with you. I am truly awed by her generosity.

She is honest and full of love and faith and she is not afraid to be out there.

Who knew taking pictures could be so fun?

I can just tell they are with fabulous Jasmine Star.

Jasmine Star’s Blog

Jasmine Star Website

Wait until you see the film openings on Jasmine’s website. I made my family watch her website load when she first updated it.

I mean really. She is a rock star.

Thanks, Jasmine, for all you do!

_______________________________________

Whew! I am drunk on the beauty, I tell ya.

I have to go lie down now.

Now it’s your turn to take a peek and gaze and observe and enjoy the beauty that’s just a click away.

Encourage one another,
Miz Booshay

Food from the Fourth

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 04:03:11 -0700

You can’t know the joy of having a once-a-year party at your house (in my case, our Fourth of July get-together) and watching guests walk through the doors of your house bearing all manner of covered dishes. You just can’t know.

Well, maybe you can know. Maybe you even have known the joy. Who am I to say? Maybe you knew the joy this weekend. Maybe you knew the joy yesterday. Maybe you know the joy even more than I, in all my once-a-year lameness, know the joy. I’m sorry I even said anything to begin with.

What I’m trying to say is, I just love a good covered dish supper. Like, love. Whether it’s the Fourth of July party at our house or a potluck lunch at our church, I’ll take it all. And if I ever, ever have a fleeting doubt as to whether I am exactly where I belong in life, I need only gaze upon the delights of the local women—from my church, from my town, from the family—and all doubt immediately disappears.

Women around here can cook.

Pesky Tim brought over three rib loins, which is never an unwelcome sight. I’m sorry if this grosses you out.

Now, if you cut up a whole rib loin into slices, you get…ribeye steaks!

And that’s exactly what we did. Man alive, is this some good eatin’.

Please keep in mind I was a vegetarian for seven years.

I like to provide as much context as possible here on The Pioneer Woman Cooks.

I also made approximately 4,000 of these, which still, in their ridiculous addictiveness, turned out not to be enough. I’ve decided that next year, I’m just going to make one of them. As in one jalapeno popper. Because if we wind up never having enough whether I make 4,000 or one, why should I go to all the trouble?

Oh, and I sliced and seeded the jalapenos myself, and I didn’t wear gloves. By 2 p.m., my hands and fingers were throbbing off of my arms and I was crying for my mommy. Then I applied lip gloss to my previously thin and nondescript lips, and five minutes later my lips were throbbing off of my mouth and I was seriously writhing in pain. But I looked like a full-lipped hottie, so I decided to live with it.

Oh, and not really on that hottie part. I was thinking of someone named Angelina.

My sister-in-law Missy brought these delicious and beautiful marinated tomatoes.

Fresh parsley (curly is fine!) salt, pepper, thyme, vegetable oil, red wine vinegar, chopped green onions, sugar, garlic…and tomato wedges! Marinate in a Ziploc for at least four hours. Let stand at room temperature for an hour or so before serving. Delicious with beef!

Peggy, fellow church lady, showed up and brought her just unbelievably delicious potato salad, which she knows I love.

This potato salad, you might notice, is almost a clone of mine (or, as it turns out, mine is a clone of hers); I posted the recipe here last week. While the flavor of hers and mine were always almost identical (we both use mustard, green onions, sweet pickles, and hard boiled eggs) I’ve always loved the texture of Peg’s potato salad. While comparing notes recently, she let me in on her secret: she rices the potatoes instead of dicing or mashing them. I tried ricing them the next time I made it and was an instant believer.

To the doubters: don’t think of this as mashed potatoes mixed in with a bunch of potato salad ingredients. It’s really not the same consistency. Mashed potatoes have butter and cream; potato salad has mayonnaise. The resulting texture of the salad is much different.

Please trust Pioneer Woman.

Please?

Okay. This is no longer funny. Edna Mae, Marlboro Man’s wonderful maternal grandmother, showed up with this 9 x 13-inch dish of ridiculousness.

Wedges of cabbage, parboiled and placed in a buttered dish. Cheese sauce. Fresh, chopped jalapenos. Salt and pepper. Baked until golden and bubbly. (Recipe coming later.)

You can’t know. And I almost missed out because I was too busy jabbering in the kitchen and forgot to go through the line and get food. I wound up scraping the pan with a little spoon and only got two measly bites.

I’ve gotta have some more in my life, pronto.

Another Missy Masterpiece: strawberries and blueberries tossed in a simple mixture of balsamic vinegar and sugar.

Ever tried balsamic and sugar over fruit?

Then you haven’t lived.

Barbara, our accountant Gary’s wife, always shows up with trays full of these sweet things.

This is the kind of thing I would do if I’d been responsible and only had one child. This, and embroidery.

Oh, how I’ve always wanted to embroider white linen handkerchiefs. I’ve only made one in my life—a small square with a floral “B” for Betsy, my sister.

She blows her snot on it every allergy season.

Back to the food.

Nothing, nothing could have prepared me for what Billie brought.

Italian Cream Cake like none other. (Recipe coming later.)

No exaggeration: best Italian Cream Cake I’ve ever put in my mouth, and the only setting in the world in which I will consume coconut. I even had a piece for breakfast Sunday morning because Billie was generous enough to leave the leftovers at my house.

And okay, fine. I hid it in the pantry while she was still here Saturday night. She looked and looked for her Tupperware cake transporter, couldn’t find it, and finally had to get home before it got late.

I had to make up for not getting any cabbage.

The Morning After

Sun, 05 Jul 2009 07:17:50 -0700

Tomorrow morning I’ll be sharing photos and stories of all the food, friends, and fun that I experienced on the Fourth. For now, I’ll attempt to chisel the sleepy sand from my eyes and and will allow our new stray dog, McCormick, to demonstrate how a six-month-old puppy feels after a night of steak scraps, cake crumbs, ear scratches from strangers, and an hour-long fireworks extravaganza the likes of which he’d never seen before. Given his age, in fact, I’d venture a guess that he’d never even seen a firework before yesterday.

He’s the tiredest six-month-old puppy in the world.

Unfortunately, Charlie won’t be joining us this morning. He stayed in the house the entire evening and slept through the whole thing.

He’s still sacked out, as a matter of fact. I’m getting ready to hold a mirror under his nose to make sure he’s still with us. Wish me luck.

(Hope your weekend celebrations were wonderful, safe, and food-filled!)

Love,
Pioneer Woman

Blackberry Ice Cream, Part Deux

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 20:33:17 -0700

When the ice cream maker stops, it’s ready!

Now, if you simply can’t wait, go ahead and serve it up now…”soft serve” style!

Or, if you’re brimming with self control, you can scrape it back into the bucket with a rubber spatula…

Smooth out the surface so it’s nice and even, then cover tightly with the lid (or plastic wrap), then stick it in the freezer to harden for at least an hour or two.

And then…

And OH….then…

THIS is what you’ll have.

This ice cream is SO creamy and smooth. I’ll be using the basic recipe tomorrow to make Peach Ice Cream, which is one of Pesky Tim’s faves

This, my darling friends, is it. The recipe of your Blackberry Ice Cream dreams. Enjoy!

Delicious Blackberry Ice Cream

2 pints fresh blackberries
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 cups half-and-half
1 cup sugar

5 large egg yolks

1 1/2 cups heavy cream

Add blackberries to a medium saucepan with 1/4 cup sugar and lemon juice. Cook over low heat, covered, for 20 to 25 minutes. Drain using a fine mesh strainer, pressing berries to extract as much juice/puree as possible. Set aside.

Heat half-and-half and 1 cup sugar in a separate saucepan over low heat. Turn off heat when mixture is totally heated.

Add heavy cream to a separate bowl.

Beat egg yolks by hand or with an electric mixer until yolks are pale yellow and slightly thick.

Add blackberry juice/puree to the cream/custard mixture and stir. Chill mixture completely, then freeze in an ice cream maker until thick. Place container in freezer to harden for an additional two hours.

Evil Variation: Stir in semi-sweet chocolate chunks before freezing. Delicious!

Blackberry Ice Cream, Part 1

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 15:02:46 -0700

I made this delicious delight last summer, lost the photos on my gargantuan (at the time) hard drive, and never got to post it.

I made it a couple of days ago, didn’t take several crucial photos, and didn’t get to post it.

So I made another batch for you today. I took one for the team. It’s the kinda gal I am.

This is a custard-based ice cream, which is the best kind of ice cream there is. You’ll need an ice cream maker; mine’s an old wooden one. The kind you get at The Wal Marts. But any ol’ ice cream maker will do.

You’ll need 2 pints of blackberries. Beautiful, dark, glorious blackberries!

5 eggs.

Lemon juice and half-and-half and heavy cream and sugar. That’s it!

THE BERRIES:

First thing we need to do is cook down the blackberries a bit. Throw them into a medium saucepan over low to medium-low heat and squeeze in the juice of half a lemon.

Add in 1/4 cup sugar. It’ll keep ya honest.

Now cover the pan and cook for about 20 minutes, or until the liquid has cooked out of the berries and begun to thicken.

And when it’s done…

Pour it into a fine mesh strainer over a bowl and allow the delicious purple liquid to drain.

Use the back of a spoon to extract as much liquid as you can.

This is liquid deliciousness.

THE MILK/SUGAR:

In a separate pan, combine 1 1/2 cups of half-and-half…

With 1 cup sugar.

Mix together, then warm up over low heat.

Now, in a separate bowl, pour 1 1/2 cups heavy (whipping) cream.

Cream. Half and half. I just love ice cream, don’t you?

THE EGGS:

Throw 5 egg yolks into a bowl.

You can either beat them by hand, or take the easy route like I do and use an electric mixer.

Beat ‘em until they’re light yellowish.

TEMPER THE EGG YOLKS:

Now, grab a little bit of the warm half-and-half/cream mixture and slowly drizzle it into the egg yolks…

…As you whisk the egg yolks constantly. Repeat this with a little more of the half-and-half mixture.

NOW you can slowly drizzle the tempered egg yolks into the pan with the rest of the half-and-half (whisk constantly) without the egg yolks cooking.

Stir the mixture in the pan as it cooks over low to medium-low heat until it thickens into a loose custard.

Now, normally I’d just strain the custard mixture right into the bowl with the heavy cream. But since my other large mesh strainer was at the Lodge, I had to use this little shrimp of a strainer…and the pitcher of my blender!

Please don’t let the blender throw you. It really has nothing to do with this recipe.

When it’s all strained, pour the custard into the bowl with the heavy cream.

Stir together until the mixture is totally combined.

Now you can pour the blackberry juice/puree into the cream mixture.

Get ready. You’re gonna love this next part.

Yummy…

Purple!

Now, if you have the time you can refrigerate this for a couple of hours to chill it. But I want to hurry the process along.

So I throw some ice into my little sink. You can use a separate bowl, too.

Then just stir it occasionally over a period of ten minutes or so to speed-chill it!

I’m very impatient in the kitchen.

When it’s thoroughly chilled, pour it into the bucket of your ice maker.

I like these old fashioned numbers. They remind me of 1974 for some reason.

Not 1975, mind you. 1974.

Now you just layer ice…

With ice cream salt.

Then turn it on to churn…and walk away!

I’ll be back in a bit to share the recipe…and show you the delicious results.

You’re gonna want to see this.

UPDATE: I’m adding in the final steps from Post #2:

When the ice cream maker stops, it’s ready!

Now, if you simply can’t wait, go ahead and serve it up now…”soft serve” style!

Or, if you’re brimming with self control, you can scrape it back into the bucket with a rubber spatula…

Smooth out the surface so it’s nice and even, then cover tightly with the lid (or plastic wrap), then stick it in the freezer to harden for at least an hour or two.

And then…

And OH….then…

THIS is what you’ll have.

This ice cream is SO creamy and smooth. I’ll be using the basic recipe tomorrow to make Peach Ice Cream, which is one of Pesky Tim’s faves

This, my darling friends, is it. The recipe of your Blackberry Ice Cream dreams. Enjoy!

Delicious Blackberry Ice Cream

2 pints fresh blackberries
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 cups half-and-half
1 cup sugar

5 large egg yolks

1 1/2 cups heavy cream

Heat half-and-half and 1 cup sugar in a separate saucepan over low heat. Turn off heat when mixture is totally heated.

Add heavy cream to a separate bowl.

Beat egg yolks by hand or with an electric mixer until yolks are pale yellow and slightly thick.

Evil Variation: Stir in semi-sweet chocolate chunks before freezing. Delicious!