Dinnertime #27

Check out more slices at Two Writing Teachers

It’s 10:45, oh no! I meant to put the roast in the crock pot at 9. Hmmm, what to do? Change dinner plans and do something else or turn the crock pot on high, hope and pray there is enough time to cook the meat. I opt for high crock pot heat.

I spring into action. Fortunately this recipe has minimal ingredients and there is absolutely no prepping needed. One critical element is the crock pot liner. If you don’t use them, you are missing the boat. They make clean up a breeze.

Yes, it only takes 3 ingredients: roast, cranberry sauce, and onion soup mix

Within five minutes the crock pot is on high and all it needs is time to create the magic which will turn into the entree for dinner. By dinnertime this will be full of a barbecue-like sauce.

Onion soup is on the bottom, cranberry sauce is scooped out on top of the roast.

I leave home for several hours, but when I return the scent of the simmering meat greets me. Quietly I breathe a sigh of relief, this smells right.

Dinnertime rolls around, the additional sides have been prepared and the moment of truth is about to happen. I lift the lid. I poke the meat, looking to see if it is fall apart tender. It falls apart. Yes, it is tender! Dinner is saved. Dinner is served!

Check out all that juice.

What Does This Mean?#26

Can you spot the differences in the pictures above? The one on the left was waiting, on the island in the kitchen, for my husband when he got up  February 14. The one on the right was also on the island when I got up. Hmmm. . . what does this mean?

You will notice it is the same bottle of wine in each photo. This is the first time we have ever bought each other a bottle of wine. My cousin spoiled our palates with this wine last fall. (Rombauer Winery, cabernet sauvignon) It was so smooth and buttery, we loved it! Then we found out how much it cost. Yikes! That is way above what we usually spend on a bottle of wine. (You can tell we are not wine aficionados, but we do enjoy a nice glass once and a while.) However, the idea was filed away in my mind that this might be something special to get some time. Apparently, my husband filed the same thought away.

One day as I was shopping, I saw the dark chocolate mint flavored M & Ms and knew that would be something my husband would love. He went to a small patisserie and bought hand-made dark truffles for me. Obviously, he wins on that point. Finally, we each had a card in a red envelope.

I burst out laughing when I saw the items on the island. We’ve been married thirty-five years. Are we morphing into the same person? This was too funny but yet a bit scary.

The truffles were delicious!

Check out more slices at Two Writing Teachers

The Last One #12

Check out more slices at Two Writing Teachers

After my culinary disappointment last week, I decided I needed to have a success story. Something to prove that my cooking skill had not died (the pizza from yesterday’s post was still days away). What could I make that would redeem my esteem? I know, chocolate chip cookies would be tasty and I have not made them for a long time (actually years, I can’t remember the last batch I made).

There was a time in my marriage (young and foolish) that you would find some kind of dessert item in my kitchen. Every week I made some kind of sugar loaded treat to feed my husband and friends as we sat around playing cards. Then my son came along and the brownies, cookies, cakes, pies continued to reside in my kitchen. However, there came a time when there wasn’t anyone to eat the treats except my husband and me, so the baking came to an end, except when we would have guests for dinner.

Imagine my husband’s surprise and delight when he discovered I had whipped up a batch of Consumer Reports Practically Perfect Chocolate Chip  Cookies. Of course we had to eat one still warm from the oven that first night. As I pulled the last pan out, I knew that I had to have a really hot one, just to savor in that warm soft dough mixed with the melty chips. Mmmm!

For the next few days I would have one with my last cup of coffee, one for dessert after lunch, and dinner. I know I was not alone in consuming these cookies. Now there is only one left in the container. It does not belong to me. I had mine. It is so sad lying there all alone. My taste buds are weeping that there will be no more . . .

All alone

Unless I get the portion out of the freezer that I put away.

Recipes: Highs and Lows #11

Check out more slices at Two Writing Teachers

Do you read recipes? New recipes push me to expand my culinary collection of recipes and techniques. An email from All Recipes will tempt me to check out their offerings every once in awhile. However,  I always read the reviews to see what others think before I commit to trying a new recipe.

I thought I had a winner when I saw Coconut Chicken Stir Fry. The creator of the recipe said, “Creamy coconut milk and chicken kicked up with a strong assortment of spices. Serve over rice or pasta,” made me smack my lips in anticipation. I was envisioning something similar to a dish I get at the Thai restaurant we love. The reviews were glowing. They all said it was wonderful, but maybe you could add more curry. I checked my cabinets and had all the assorted spices the recipe called for. I printed out the recipe and kept it close at hand as I followed each step. It was with a bit of trepidation that I put in two teaspoons of crushed pepper flakes, one teaspoon ground cumin, and half a teaspoon of curry. I decided to omit the pepper, which was to taste (I thought there was enough heat in it already). As I simmered this mixture I took a taste of the sauce hoping for the coconut flavor I loved, but all I tasted was hot. Finally it was time to serve it, crossing my fingers I took my first bite. Disappointing was the only way I could describe it. It was spicy, too spicy and that took away the flavor. I didn’t taste the coconut at all. We finished dinner and the recipe went into the trash. The remainder of the dish went down the disposal. Bummer! This would be a low.

I won’t let one disappointment this week deter me from trying something else this week. I had a recipe for a pizza that intrigued me. Would you consider a pizza with spinach, apples, and blue cheese? Those are the ingredients in the Bistro Apple Pizza. I made the crust, then began the process to create this pizza. My husband commented it smelled good. He was smelling the sauteing garlic and the chopped spinach. In the oven the pizza went. As it baked I wondered if we’d be calling Dominoes or eating a Lean Cuisine for dinner. It smelled great, so I anxiously took the first bite. The verdict: YUM! This recipe went back into the cabinet to be made another day, a cooking high!

Click here for link to recipe

Rut, Routine, or Tradition? #2

Check out more slices at Two Writing Teachers

The first Friday of every month in is called Art Walk. Stores and art galleries stay open until 10 p.m. and a map of participating stores is provided so you can wander throughout the downtown area to view interesting art. This is a fun way to spend an evening without spending a lot of money. Of course it helps when the weather cooperates and you can stroll down the sidewalk rather than fight a brutally cold wind as you hustle along.

This past fall we began visiting the bakery, Amy Cakes,  because they were reported to have the best cinnamon rolls. (Read here to learn the saga of cinnamon rolls.) But we discovered another taste sensation that is now required every month. It is called an Elvis cake. Let me describe the taste sensations in this treat. The cake is banana with a peanut butter ganache inside and peanut butter icing on top. Can you say YUM?

Plus they also bake monster cookies, which my husband loves. (A monster cookie has peanut butter, oatmeal, chocolate chips, and M & Ms in it and the diameter is at least six inches.)

So our usual order is two Elvis cupcakes, two cinnamon rolls, and one monster cookie.

We have to take advantage of this one night because this bakery only does custom orders during regular hours. These treats are only available on this one evening a month. Of course you can order the treats, but you have to get an entire cake or pan of cinnamon rolls. We only need a little tasty treat, we may want more, but I can’t afford the calories.

So every First Friday we make a trip to Amy Cakes to get our treat of the month. In October we went in drooling with the thought of the Elvis cake. As my eyes scanned the display case, I became concerned because there were no Elvis cakes! The lady behind the counter explained that none were made because the day had been so rainy and cold they didn’t think many would come out for the Art Walk. My face fell in disappointment, but we made do with other choices that night. Ever since then, the staff looks for us. They don’t know our name, but they know our order.

Yesterday was the first Friday of the month. You can guess where we were last night. So here is where I ponder the question, are we in a rut? Or has this routine developed into a tradition? Whatever the case, it’s a taste we look forward to every month.

The choices spread before us, oh what will it be?

No monster cookie today, so we had to make do with another cupcake.

Taste of Summer

Check out other slices of life at Two Writing Teachers

Lately I’ve been having trouble keeping track of the date and events related to the date. For example, I couldn’t believe there wasn’t more hype about the Super Bowl. On Sunday, I got up thinking that was the Super Bowl day (even though I knew Super Bowl was Feb. 3). I panicked when I realized my meal plans for the evening were a week away. I need dinner plans, what to do?

The weatherman said it was going to be in the 60′s. Hmmm . . .  that sounds like grilling weather. That would be a treat in January we don’t often have. “Would you prefer hamburgers or brats?” I ask my husband.

“Brats!” he replies quickly.

Whatever he chose required a trip to the store to gather the needed meat and buns. Off I go to pick up supplies, savoring the thought of grilled brats and vegetables. As luck would have it, the store-made brats were on sale and the bakery had brat buns. Yay! It must be a sign that this is meant to be. I also gather fresh blackberries that are also on sale. I’m thinking this is going to be a taste of summer tonight.

As I head for home, it begins to rain and the temperature is only 50. Hmmm. . . was the weatherman right? Will it warm up? Will I be standing out on the damp patio? All foods are purchased, so there is no turning back from this dinner.

All afternoon I scan the sky looking for breaks in the clouds, hoping the sun will cast a few warm rays in my direction. But alas, it does not happen. The warmth does not come from the sun, but my extra thick sweatshirt.

I do not stand guard over the veggies and brats. I am in and out, in and out multiple times. Finally, all food is prepared. Grilled brats and veggies are a taste of meals to come in warmer weather. I’m ready to shove winter aside and welcome spring with open arms, but I guess I will have to wait a few more months for that to happen.

Can you hear the sizzle?
Can you smell the smoke?

Fun with Italian Parsley

Did you know that Italian flat-leaf parsley will survive a winter?  I happened to be in the backyard, when I noticed a lot of dark vibrant green leaves in my small herb/tomato garden. When I got closer, I discovered it was the parsley that I had planted last spring. I had no idea it would survive freezing temperatures. Now what will I do with all this parsley?

Sunset magazine had the solution for me. Parsley Ravioli! I read over the ingredients and the steps, seems doable and I definitely had the parsley. This will be an interesting project for dinner. I need one cup of finely chopped parsley and a half cup of parsley leaves. I head out to the garden to clip some parsley. I wonder how much to cut. I figure I’d better get quite a bit. There really aren’t so many leaves on a stem. So I clip some from this side. I clip some from that side. Maybe a little more. I bring it in to wash it off.

Washing the parsley

Do you think I have enough? Now it is all wet which makes it stick to everything. I pull leaves off and put them into the spinner to remove the water before I begin the chopping process.

Spinning the parsley

I grab the hand chopper hoping it will chop this herb finely and I won’t have to use a knife. I set the chopper over the small pile of dried leaves. Bang! Bang! Bang! I push on the top. I lift it off the leaves, not a one is chopped?! What’s that all about? Then I realize I forgot to remove the cap from the bottom. Whoops! Bang! Bang! Bang! Lift it again, much better! This process continues for quite a while until I have one cup of finely chopped parsley. I pull off a half cup of leaves too. I still have a sink full of parsley. Maybe I didn’t need to cut so much.

This tool does the trick, but you do have to take the cap off the bottom.

Parsley is combined with ricotta cheese, egg, and parmesan. Wonton wrappers are the “pasta” part of the ravioli. They are sealed with water, then I used a biscuit cutter to make them round.

A tablespoon is all you need for each.

This is more labor intensive than I thought as I work my way through the wrappers. Slowly all the filling disappears and there are no leftover wrappers.

Finally they are assembled.

The ravioli are ready for the boiling water. You can only cook 4-5 at a time. They are to cook in boiling water for 3 minutes. Once they are finished boiling, I am to put them on a greased cookie sheet covered with foil in a warm oven. This process takes forever! In-out of water, in-out of the oven. What have I started?

Cooking in boiling water, some broke open.

Once all the ravioli are cooked and staying warm, I need to make the butter sauce. Fortunately, I had prepared salads and bread before beginning the ravioli cooking. Once the sauce was completed, we were ready to eat. Finally!

They were good, but not to die for. I can’t see doing this again, so I will have to use my parsley in other ways.

Compare this to the magazine page

Whose idea was this anyway?

Taste of Tradition

Holidays have their own taste requirements. What would Thanksgiving be without some form of pumpkin on the menu? Cookies are the dessert of choice when it comes to Christmas. Years ago (when I was younger) I would come home from school every day in December and prepare a batch of cookies each evening. Some days it would be two different kinds. I don’t mean your everyday kind of cookie either. No chocolate chip, peanut butter, or oatmeal for this season. These cookies were usually labor intensive and pretty. I didn’t mind because it was fun and I always had cookies available for friends dropping by. These days, I don’t make so many.

However, there is one cookie that is a requirement. It is a Norwegian cookie, sandbakkel (pronounced like sun buckle). This is a cookie that has been made for generations in our family. It is a simple butter cookie, but the dough is pressed into small tins, then baked. This is one of those cookies that takes extra work, but it is so worth it! I divide my tins into thirds so I can have one set in the oven baking, one set cooling on the counter, and the final set getting dough put into the tins. The tricky part is getting them out of the tins (oh shucks, it broke, guess I have to eat it). Once these have been baked, I know the season is here.

Party mix is another must have for December. Usually it is made the first weekend of December, but not this year. However, it did get made, just later.

It takes three boxes of Chex cereal, only rice and corn (wheat gets too tough), a bag of pretzels (prefer sticks), a box of Cheez-its, a container of mixed nuts without peanuts, and a container of cashews (both nuts from Costco). Of course it can only be made with butter (no Parkay here).

I find the largest container in the pantry to hold all the dry ingredients. Mix and toss, now the process begins. Melt the butter, stir in the seasoned salt, and worcestershire sauce. Pour it over a bowlful of mix, pop it in the microwave for two minutes. Stir, the tang of the worcestershire sauce tickles my nose and makes my eyes water. Back to the microwave for another two minutes. Stir again, more watering eyes. Two minutes to go. Lay out a layer of newspaper covered by paper towels. Ding goes the microwave. Spread the mix onto the paper towels to cool. This process is repeated over and over until the last batch has been prepared. Eager hands are ready to scoop up the mix. Crunch, crunch, now I know Christmas is near.

"Can I have some now?"

The Season Begins

Is it just me or has the Christmas season started earlier than ever? I love Christmas, but it should start after Thanksgiving. It should not be evident before Halloween. However, the world did not ask me (can’t imagine why).

There is one place where I can accept Christmas prior to Thanksgiving. That would be at a Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert. In August I got tickets as soon as they went on sale. This would be the fifth Christmas concert for us. I couldn’t wait! I L-O-V-E the music!

Walking from the parking garage to the arena you can see the excitement in the steps of the concert-goers. Next to the arena nine huge Prevost motor homes idle plus there were several semis parked in the loading bay. I walk just a bit quicker, as if my quick steps will start the concert sooner. Voices chatter excitedly as we wait for the concert to begin.

The stage darkens, bodies move into place. The silhouette of each musician strikes the pose. Strobe lights flash, BOOM –  the music begins and does not let up for two and a half hours. We are lost in a Christmas world of rocking music, then too suddenly the music is over. Lights are back up and slowly we reenter the world of November, but there is a song echoing in in our minds as we begin the walk back to the parking garage.

Now the CDs are in the car and I can relive the music of that night over and over. Attending this concert makes it so much easier to endure the stores pushing  Christmas before Thanksgiving.

Lights, music, action!

Flavors of Fall

Do you think some foods belong to a season? In my house a lot of different foods make a return visit for the cooler time of year. Salads as a main course disappear, which allows chili, stews, and hearty thick soups to make an appearance on the menu once the heat is out of the air.

Another seasonal food is pumpkin. I love pumpkin bread, muffins, pie, bread pudding, pumpkin dump cake, and best of all – a pumpkin concrete (a mixture of pumpkin pie blended into frozen vanilla custard).

Anyway, now that I have your taste buds warmed up I want to tell you a little story about a chocolate zucchini pumpkin cake. My memory was stirred by a sign over a gas pump advertising pumpkin flavored coffee inside. This did not sound appealing to me but it did make me smile as I recalled a memory from over twenty-five years ago.

My friend Rhonda is a wonderful cook and if we are invited to dinner I look forward to the meal with anticipation. She is not afraid to experiment with new recipes that intrigue her. Most of the time the results are a culinary delight.

“I just saw a recipe for a chocolate zucchini pumpkin cake, doesn’t that sound good?” she tells me over the phone. Before I can respond she continues, “And I can bake it in two round bowls, then when I frost it I will put the halves together and it will look like a pumpkin!” She was so excited at this fun cake she could envision, I hated to express my true feelings. But inside I was thinking chocolate and pumpkin? Not two flavors I want to blend. And throw in zucchini? I am thinking this is a disaster waiting to happen. But, I will wait until I taste it, maybe it will be good. (I have my doubts.)

So, on the evening I know she is baking this concoction, my husband and I walk over after dinner, with a bit of trepidation. I don’t want to hurt her feelings if I don’t like it. That was not going to be a problem. The sight that meets our eyes is one I will never forget. Rhonda is no where to be seen although it is evident she has been working in the kitchen. Mixing bowls are strewn across the counter, canisters of sugar and flour are open, and the cake is there on a cake stand. The cake has been attacked by a spatula. The weapon impaled  the baked batter of a chocolate zucchini pumpkin cake. Orange icing oozed down the sides of the half-sphere, it refused to stay put.

Rhonda’s vision of a pumpkin shaped cake never came to be. Although we never ate it, we will never forget it.