Mmm, crackers...

In preparation for holiday baking (coming soon to a post near you!) I stole this recipe from Joy the Baker.

I skipped the poppy seeds, but only because I didn't have any. They would be extra good with the added texture.

Sea Salt and Poppy Seed Crackers

1 c all-purpose flour

1/4 tsp salt

1 tsp sugar

1 tbsp butter, cold and cut into 6 small chunks

1 tbsp poppy seeds

6 tbsp half and half

For topping the crackers:

sea salt

half and half

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F. Sift together the flour, salt and sugar. Add the butter and, using your fingers, rub the butter into the flour until it is in tiny bits and dispersed throughout the flour mixture. (I used my food processor since I'm lazy.) (Also, please disregard the uber-feminine flannel shirt jacket protruding into the picture. I try to give the darn thing away and it just keeps coming back!)

Stir in the poppy seeds. (Or don't.)

Add the half and half and mix to make a stiff dough. Place on a lightly floured surface and roll out to about 8×10-inches. Cut into 20 squares. (Using a pizza cutter makes this easier.)

Place the dough squares on an ungreased baking sheet lined with parchment or foil. Brush sparingly with half and half and sprinkle with sea salt. (Penzey's. Mmmmm.)

Bake for 30 minutes or until crisp but still pale. Transfer to a wire rack to cool and store in an airtight container.

BONUS!!!

Check out that third picture. See it? The one with hands and a toaster and forks and stuff? There's a yellow-green Nerf ball type object. First one to guess what it is gets 12 billion blog points!!! (Hints forthcoming in a future post!)

Things That Make Me Go "Huh?" (2)

I went to the eye doctor today and she dilated my eyes. My pupils are huge! So my question is this: When your eyes dilate, where does the pigmented part go? Where's my brownish hazelishousness? Are my pupils like a black hole in space, sucking all matter into their doomed darkness?

Aunt Sarah Project

I've written about Aunt Sarah (also known as "Caroline" a time or two before.

She traveled all over, teaching classes on linguistics, giving college devotions and learning languages, sometimes even creating a written language where none existed.

Recently, I came into possession of a box of letters that she wrote to her family along her journeys. Painstakingly saved by her mother and tied up with ribbon, the letters chronicle years of Aunt Sarah's life and travels all over the world. The idea behind this "project" is to put some order to this great jumble of words, to chronologically map out her voyages.

It's been a little more difficult than I had anticipated. I find myself mesmerized by her stories. What started out as little more than a genealogy side project has become something else altogether.

A kind of obsession. A kind of feeling like I know someone I've never met. Like maybe I'm with her as she talks to people in strange languages and with different customs than what I'm used to.

Sitting with her next to a fire, seeing her smoking a cigar and watching a sunset, pen in hand, waiting to describe it to her mother in a letter.

Riding with her over bumpy, potholed streets in places where yours is the only car. Everybody else walks. Later, the car will leave and she'll walk, too.

She laughs at the antics of the children who come to entertain her, showing off, doing cartwheels and trying to outdo each other, vying for her attention.

She wracks her brain for words when writing to her supporters, trying to sound dignified and yet still trying to raise awareness of the plights of some of the people she works with.

She's amazed by God's Creation.

She misses her family.

She's ravaged by cancer, but still determined to serve.

She speaks to at chapel services, too weak to stand but still beautifully eloquent in her love for God.

I don't know her but I love her all the same.

With apologies to senior citizens everywhere...

In honor of my love for all things antiquated, I'm expanding my vocabulary to include old person swears. Words like consarned, dagnabbit, gee willikers (sorry, Mom), dang and blast...you get the idea.

Oh, and molasses cookies.

Something about the old fashioned soft and chewy lovliness of these cookies makes me all warm and gooey inside.

3/4 cup butter
1 cup white sugar
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 cup white sugar

Preheat oven to 375. In a medium bowl, mix together the butter, 1 cup sugar and egg until smooth. Stir in the molasses. Combine the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, cloves, and ginger; blend into the molasses mixture.

Roll dough into walnut sized balls and roll them in the remaining white sugar. Place cookies 2 inches apart onto ungreased baking sheets.

Bake for 8 to 10 minutes in the preheated oven until tops are cracked. Cool on wire racks.

Eat, and if you're feeling generous, share them with old people. It'll make their day.

And then the lights went out.

Last Friday night there was a huge storm here. Just as I got home from work, the rain began. I like rain and thunder and lightning, but this time the lightning was green. I wish I would have caught it on film but I didn't and so you'll just have to take my word for it. Rain like buckets of water pouring down on everything. Trees snapped in half like twigs. Wind whistling over it all. Green. Lightning. The power died.

I thought my life was over.

Then came calm. The tornado sirens faded to silence.

To the east, a rainbow. To the west, the most gorgeous, bright yellow sunset I've ever seen.

Powerless, we sat in the dark. Played Scrabble by candlelight. No tv (if I didn't actually see the Red Wings lose the Stanley Cup it didn't really happen, right? Right?), no air conditioning, no lights, no cooking.

We're fan sleepers, too, so try as we might, sleep evaded us. We played 20 questions in the dark and waited for sleep to take us. We crack each other up. Lovely to know we still like each other after almost nine years of marriage...

I wish the power would go out more often.

The Curtis Side

I've never really talked about Steven's family here, have I. Shame on me!

They came for a visit a few weeks ago and here they are. Hanging out at the Memphis Zoo. From left to right, Steven's mom (Karen), Steven, Steven's dad (Steve, known around my family as "Big Steve"), and Steven's brother, Billy. Billy will probably murdalize me for using his picture here in my humble little blog, but he'll get over it. Or I'll be murdalized. Whatever.

Here they are looking at meercats. I just love photographing people who are unaware they're being watched. Um, but not in a creepy way.

Well here I told them to row, but apparently everybody but Karen thinks I'm weird. Yeah, weird. That's it.

Not pictured due to not being present: Steven's brother (Chris) and Chris' wife, Amanda and their daughter, London. Ooh, and Amanda's preggers with baby number two, so yay for another niece or nephew. That I'll never get to see. Ah well.

Good people, one and all. Well, except Billy. (Just kidding, Billy!)

-----

And here's a big kitty using a fallen log as a scratching post. Ain't she cute?

Slippers You Say?

These two wonderful, delicious loaves of heaven on earth brought to you by Recipe Zaar.

The purpose? Besides making an effort to make my own bread and becoming more of a food snob each and every day, these sandwiches.

Ingredients

For Sponge

1/8 teaspoon active dry yeast
2 tablespoons water (105-115 F)
1/3 cup room-temp water
1 cup bread flour

For Bread

1/2 teaspoon active dry yeast
2 tablespoons warm milk (105-115 F)
2/3 cup room-temp water
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 cups bread flour
1 1/2 teaspoons salt

Directions

Make sponge: Stir together, warm water and yeast. Let stand 5 minutes, until creamy. Transfer yeast mixture to another bowl and add room-temp water and flour. Stir for 4 minutes. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let stand at cool room temp at least 12 hours and up to 1 day.

Make bread: Stir together yeast and milk in small bowl and let stand 5 minutes, until creamy. In bowl of standing electric mixer, with dough hook, blend together milk mixture, sponge, water, oil and flour at low speed until flour is moistened. Beat on medium for 3 minutes. Add salt and beat for 4 more minutes. Scrape dough into oiled bowl and cover with plastic wrap, until doubled- about 1 1/2 hours.

Note: Dough will be VERY sticky and full of bubbles.

Cut two pieces of parchment paper, approx 12 inches by 6 inches. Place on baking sheet and flour well. Turn dough out onto a well-floured surface and cut in half. Transfer each half to paper and form irregular ovals approx 9 inches long. Dip fingers in flour and dimple loaves. Dust tops with flour. Cover with dampened kitchen towel and let rise 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until almost doubled.

At least 45 minutes before baking bread, pre-heat pizza stone on lowest oven rack position at 425°F. Transfer 1 loaf, along with parchment paper, onto stone and bake for 20 minutes or until pale golden. Remove to cooling racks and repeat with second loaf.

For Steve's favorite sandwich: Saute onions (Vidalias if you've got them) in butter. Slice ciabatta in half lengthwise, top with roast beef and onions. Pile cheddar cheese on the other half. Broil until bubbly and delicious, taking care to remove it from the oven before it bursts into flame. Add mustard if you're feeling frisky.

Things I've Learned the Hard Way (Part 3)

Part One is here. Part Two is here.

16. Old men love me. Mr. Jim thinks I'm "awful cute." I think he's awful cute, too. Steven always says if I ever leave him I'll head to the nursing home to look for husband number two.

17. Young boys love me, too. Nick wants to marry me. Which is wrong on so many levels. One, he's in elementary school. Two, he's my nephew. Three, he's just not my type. Oh, and I'm already married.

18. Ten or so trips up and down the stairs per day is not enough exercise to keep my hindquarters from swelling to the size of a Honda Civic. Honda Civic: Little for a car, huge for a backside. Wouldn't that make a great motto for them?

19. On a related note, Steve and I are Buttertons! Isn't that great?!


20. Nail-biting from recent Red Wings loss + late night cherry pitting = hands that look like they belong on a zombie in a cheesy horror flick.

21. Old people use a lot of toilet paper. It's true! Recently I asked the church folks to save cardboard tubes (ie tp tubes, paper towel rolls, gift wrap tubes, etc) along with coffee cans and spice shakers for a craft project I'm doing with the kids next month. Well the coffee cans and spice containers are slowly coming in, but I'm buried in mountains of toilet paper tubes! Seriously. Every kid in Memphis could have a toilet paper megaphone and I'd still have leftovers!

And now, a picture of my mother-in-law and I at the Memphis Zoo. Note how she exults in the suns' rays while I hide from them.

22. Yet another thing I've learned the hard way: the sun hates me. I don't tan, I burn, peel and become pasty again. Curses, fair skin!

Mac n Cheese

Jesus loves me. This is why the good Lord invented macaroni and cheese.

This recipe has all the lovely flavor of homemade macaroni and cheese but without the grainy texture that you sometimes get when you melt cheddar cheese. The secret is adding part of the pasta water to the cheese sauce! AH HA!!! Now you know.

Recipe courtesy of Epicurious.

For topping:

1/2 stick unsalted butter
2 cups panko (coarse Japanese bread crumbs) or 3 cups coarse fresh bread crumbs (from 6 slices firm white sandwich bread) And lucky me, I had a partial loaf of homemade bread just waiting to be bread crumbs!
1/4 pound coarsely grated extra-sharp Cheddar (1 1/2 cups)
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

For macaroni and sauce:

1 stick unsalted butter
6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
5 cups whole milk
1 pound coarsely grated extra-sharp Cheddar (6 cups)
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1 pound elbow macaroni

Make topping:
Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in middle.

Melt butter, then stir together with panko and topping cheeses in a bowl until combined well.

Make sauce:
Melt butter in a heavy medium saucepan over medium-low heat and stir in flour. Cook roux, stirring, 3 minutes, then whisk in milk. Bring sauce to a boil, whisking constantly, then simmer, whisking occasionally, 3 minutes. Stir in cheeses, 2 teaspoons salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper until smooth. Remove from heat and cover surface of sauce with wax paper.

Make Macaroni:
Cook macaroni in a pasta pot of boiling salted water (2 tablespoons salt for 4 quarts water) until al dente. Reserve 1 cup cooking water and drain macaroni in a colander. Stir together macaroni, reserved cooking water, and sauce in a large bowl. Transfer to 2 buttered 2-quart shallow baking dishes.

Sprinkle topping evenly over macaroni and bake until golden and bubbling, 20 to 25 minutes.

For maximum effectiveness, enjoy this hot while watching Harry and the Hendersons. Good times.

These Flowers...

...are the definition of red. I saw them on the side of the highway on the way home from church: a flowing red and green wave stretching for miles. Red clover.


I was going to make them all fancy, punching up the color and such, but I like how you can see the dirt and grit of the highway between the flowers.

They've been growing here for years, battered by passing cars, exhaust and the elements, unaided by humans, and thriving nonetheless.

And arresting the attentions of people like me.

Reasons I Love My Husband (#956)

The chocolate covered strawberry he bought me at Union Station in St. Louis.

*sigh*

blankies

Have I mentioned lately that my parents are awesome?

My mom is a quilting genius. She and my grandma made each of my siblings and I a quilt when we were itty, bitty babies. They've all been through a million washes, re-stuffings, little fixes.

Mine is "The Princess Blanket." Isn't she gorgeous? Mine's the best. (I'm the favorite.)

A little aside about the princess blanket:

My dearly beloved is very manly. Except when it comes to my blanket. Then he dissolves into a puddle of gooey softness. Once upon a time, he was just finishing a shower when he heard a key in the lock. Knowing it was too early for my return from work, he wrapped the princess blanket around himself, toga style just in time to see our landlord entering the apartment accompanied by a pair of perspective renters!

"Oops, thought the place was empty," she muttered, shutting the door.

Anyway,

My mom has continued the tradition, making each of her grandkids a blanket, I believe for their first birthday.

Last Christmas, after eight years of marriage, Steve became an official member of the family and was presented with his very own quilt, "The Michigan Blankie." He's spoiled, don't you think? Yeah, he is. It's okay, you can say it. It's okay though, I steal it most nights.

For a wedding gift, my mom made us a picture quilt. It's huge. The left side is my family, Steven's is on the right, and the center strip is all about the wedding. When she showed it to me, I told myself I wouldn't ever sleep with it, only hang it up and stare at it.

I lied.


It's so comfortable! I can't help myself. Especially when I'm homesick, it's so nice to curl up with. Until I wake up to see my grandma staring at me, that is. Then it's just creepy.

I find myself breaking it out whenever visitors come around. What's better than a family photo album? A family photo album that keeps you warm while you look at it.

Adventures in Appalachia-Part Four

Just a teeny tiny note before continuing: this saga, this chronicle of Kentucky life is already over and done with. We left Kentucky in 2006 headed for Memphis and haven't been back save for a few short days to attend Steven's graduation. I'd go back in a second if I had the chance.

On with the show!
----------
Part One is here. Part Two is here. Part Three is here. Catch up, willya?!

The duck. It just sat there. Day after day, gently bobbing in the rushing water. By this time in the year, it was getting cold again. Not cold enough for a jacket, but cold enough for you NOT to go swimming in Clear Creek.

Maybe you wouldn't go swimming, but I might.

I wanted to see that duck.

I took pictures, thinking I could zoom in and see what was holding it in place. Was it real? Was it stuck on something? I couldn't tell.

For days I watched it.

There was nothing else to do.

One day after work, snuck out to the creek bank. Furtively looking around to be sure I wasn't watched, I took off my shoes, rolled up my pantlegs and waded in. The water was freezing! The rocks were slippery, the current was fast, and I almost fell a few times.

Success! I got the duck. I got that darn duck. I guess it's some sort of decoy, though it's not like any I've ever seen before. Some hunter probably had it planted there and I foiled all his plans. At least I like to think so.

I took it home, stuck a marigold in its back and called it a planter. I've still got it. And I was sick for about three weeks after my little swimming trip, but we won't talk about that...


Kind of a letdown, huh?

Kentucky is a magical place. Besides the obvious things like the mountains and the hidden creeks and the glorious solitude, the people are amazing. I'm not naive. I know every place has its good folks and its bad, and I won't pretend some of the people aren't downright creepy, like the time I saw a group of old, bearded men sitting on a porch with shotguns. Another story for another time.

Everywhere you go, people wave. Driving down the street, a wave. Shopping at Wal-Mart, a wave. Passing on the sidewalk, a wave, a how's your husband and a hug if you've seen the person more than once.

I am normally not a touchy person but it's hard to break the habit once you get hugged and handshook a couple hundred times.

If you pass someones house around dinnertime, expect to be invited in for "a quick bite." If your house floods, somebody'll come to your rescue. If your neighbor's got a garden, you've got a garden, too.

If your church has a sing-in, folks from all over the holler will show up to participate. Banjos will be plucked. Fiddles will be sawed. Feet will stomp, hands will clap, shoutin' will commence.

I miss it.

I'm thinking that it's mostly the connectedness that I miss. The togetherness, okay? Yes, the waving and even the hugging. People in bigger cities (in my experience) just don't care about each other. I could run down the street screaming "Rape!" and people might look out their windows at me, but no one would do anything.

I miss our little church, our crumbling trailer, watching the sun set between the mountains. Seeing the people that have lived their for generations delight in the wonder on my face at the sight of mimosa trees covered in blooms. Especially seeing them re-realize the beauty of the things they take for granted every day.

What I wouldn't give to have it back.

Dinnertime

Your minds can not fathom the realms of deliciousness that await you.

Saturdays are a magical time here in the house of Curtis. I can get up late, leisurely sip my coffee and cook til my heart's content. Or not. That's the lovely thing. Anything goes.

Grilled Ham Steak
Potato/Caramelized Onion Gratin (with slight adaptations)
Blackberry Grunt

I made the blackberry grunt waaaaaaay back here, so click the link if you want the recipe. You will not be sorry.

Here's the gratin, courtesy of Mr. Brown.

Ingredients

5 or 6 Yukon gold potatoes, peeled
2 or 3 Portobello mushroom caps, sliced thin (I'm not really a mushroom person, so I caramelized a few onions to toss in instead)
1 cup grated hard cheese such as Parmesan or Asiago (if you get a good quality cheese and grate it yourself, it'll be so much better, I promise! Avoid the green can!)
3/4 cup half and half
Kosher salt and ground black pepper

Heat oven to 400 degrees and butter a 9 by 13-inch baking dish and set aside.

Using a mandolin, V-slicer or the slicing attachment on a food processor, (or you could just slice them yourself like I did) slice the potatoes approximately 1/8-inch thick. (If you don't want to slice all the potatoes at once, slice them one at a time and build the gratin as you go.) Create the first layer by laying the slices in overlapping rows. Once the first layer is down, season lightly with salt and pepper, then scatter with mushroom (or onion) slices and a couple tablespoons of the cheese. (Don't over-do it on these layers, if you create a barrier between the adjoining potato layers, the gratin won't set.)


Continue building layers until you're out of potatoes or out of room to build, but be sure to save 1/2 cup of the cheese for the top. Pour 2/3 cup of the half and half over the gratin then spread both hands over the surface and push down to work the air out from the layers. Add remaining liquid only if half and half does not come to the surface when you push down.

Sprinkle the gratin with cheese, cover loosely with foil and place in middle of oven for 1 hour. Check for doneness by inserting the point of a paring knife straight into the gratin. If it goes through smoothly, remove the foil, return to oven, and turn on the broiler just long enough to turn the top golden-brown. Remove, and allow to sit at room temperature for 15 to 20 minutes before serving.

Eat. Enjoy. Rest. Repeat.

Bagels for BYOB!

I'm proud to report that I haven't purchased bread since starting the BYOB challenge over at the Baker's Bench. I found a great bagel recipe here.

Homemade Bagel Recipe
*adapted from John D Lee*
4 c bread flour
1 tbsp sugar
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp vegetable oil (Being out of veggie, I used olive. Good result.)
2 tsp instant yeast
1-1/4- 1-1/2 cups of warm water.

Mix all the ingredients in a bowl. The dough should feel stiff, but add the extra water if it's really stiff, or you can't get all the dry flour incorporated.

Plop the dough down onto the counter, and knead for about ten minutes, or until the dough is uniform and smooth. (I used my stand mixer for this, and only kneaded with the dough hook for about five minutes. Kneading dough is great for working out frustrations and building up those muscles. My arms are big enough, thanks.)

Cut the dough into 8 equal sized balls, and let rest for 10-20 minutes.

Preheat your oven to 425.

Recalling your childhood playdough fun, roll each dough ball into a snake. Once it's about a long as the width of both your hands, roll it around one of your hangs and join the ends together. The dough will adhere to itself easier if you wet your fingertips a little before the smooshing part. Practice makes perfect! (I really liked his description for the rolling...he's even got a video of it on his site...)

Let your bagels rest on the counter for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, bring a pot of water to boil, and grease a large baking tray lightly.

After the 20 minute wait, your bagels will start to look puffy, and it's time to get them boiling! Add them as many at a time as you can to your boiling water without crowding them. Boil for about a minute, turn them over (use a fork or a chopstick) and boil for another minute. Take them out and let dry for a minute and then place them on your oiled baking tray. Repeat until all the bagels are boiled.

Add the tray to the oven, and after 10 minutes, flip the bagels over, bake for another ten minutes.

Let them cool for at least 20 minutes.

Add toppings after the boiling if you like. Onion, poppy seeds, pig droppings, whatever you want. I sprinkled on some sesame seeds and they look beautiful. Bake in the same way, turning bagels over halfway through baking.

Adventures in Appalachia-Part Two

Part One is here.
It snowed from the second we hit Kentucky all the way down into the southeastern corner where we were headed. Snow is no big deal for three tough Yankee drivers. We laugh in the face of snow. As long as we're on flat, Yankee land, that is. Snow in the mountains is another story. We crawled down the roads, some of them hollowed out from the very mountains. Even in my exhausted and emotionally drained stupor, I still marveled over the beauty of the Appalachian Mountains. My first view of them I will never forget. They kind of creep up on you; you don't even realize you're climbing up until you catch a glimpse of the view through the trees. Trees and mountains as far as the eye can see.

Exiting the highway in Corbin, we saw a barbecue place and gas station or two and that was about it. Coming from Flint, which has a population of about 114,000 to Corbin, which has about 7,500 was kind of a shock. And we weren't even at our final destination yet. (Note: Pineville has about 2,000 residents.)

We continued along 25E, winding our way around mountains and slower moving vehicles, looking for salt trucks or even sand trucks to no avail.

Finally we reached Clear Creek Road, the road that would bring us to college and our new home. On the left were a group of trailers that looked like they had been dropped out of the sky and were haphazardly perched along the roadway. On the right was a golf course, snowed in for the winter.

We got to the school and were greeted by a man in overalls who was driving a little tractor with a snowplow attached to the front.

"School's closed for the snow," he called.

We parked our moving van and the two cars in the empty lot.

"You'll never make it up to your housing area in this!"

The tired, vicious snakewoman in me had a little inner monologue: Let us at least try! We've been on the road for 13 hours! Get out of our way! I will drag this van up the mountain!

The real me just stood there, staring at the snow covered mountains.

Overall man (later introduced as Mr. Fain) showed us into a little building just off the main school. A sign over the door proclaimed that it was the Foxes' Den. Inside were mailboxes, vending machines, and oh, sweet Jesus, couches. We all collapsed. Surely students and faculty alike came in and out while we rested, but we were happily oblivious.

Finally, the road to our temporary housing was clear enough for us to pass. Leaving our van at the school, we traversed the twisting road up to a little house set apart from the rest of the school buildings.

The Missionary Apartment.

Mmmmm, Soup!

The best thing about the Easter feast? Leftovers. I made a picnic pork shoulder roast with mushroom gravy. Mmmmm. When all the feasting was done, I had a lovely pork bone just perfect for making stock. I'd never made porky pig ham stock before, but I figured it couldn't be much different than making poultry stock and so I did!

Delicioso!

Pork Shoulder with Mustard-Mushroom Gravy

3 tablespoons vegetable oil
4 cups chopped onions
2 cups chopped peeled carrots (about 12 ounces)
1 1/2 teaspoons dried thyme
1 bay leaf
4 1/2 cups (or more) canned low-salt chicken broth
2 cups dry white wine
1 7 1/2-pound picnic pork shoulder roast, trimmed of rind and all but 1/8-inch-thick layer of fat
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter, room temperature
1/2 pound fresh shiitake mushrooms, stemmed, coarsely chopped
6 ounces crimini mushrooms, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup unbleached all purpose flour
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard

Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium-high heat. Add onions, carrots, thyme and bay leaf. Sauté until tender, about 10 minutes. Add 4 1/2 cups broth and wine. Bring to boil. Reduce heat; cover pot partially. Simmer 40 minutes, stirring occasionally and skimming off fat if necessary. Strain into 4-cup glass measuring cup, pressing on solids; discard solids. Add more broth if necessary to measure 4 cups, or return broth to pot and boil until reduced to 4 cups. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cool to room temperature. Cover; chill.)

Position rack in bottom third of oven and preheat to 325°F. Place roasting rack in shallow roasting pan. Sprinkle pork generously with salt and pepper. Set pork, fat side up, on rack in roasting pan. Roast until thermometer inserted into thickest part of pork registers 180°F, about 3 hours. Transfer to cutting board. Tent with foil. Scrape pan juices into 1-cup glass measuring cup. Spoon off fat. Reserve juices.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Add all mushrooms. Cover and cook until tender, stirring often, about 10 minutes.

Pour pan juices and 4 cups broth into mushrooms. Bring to simmer. Mix 4 tablespoons butter and flour in small bowl to form paste. Add mustard. Gradually whisk paste into skillet. Cook until gravy thickens slightly, whisking occasionally, about 5 minutes. Serve pork with gravy.

After da food, stick the bone in a pot of water with some salt and pepper and spices and seasonings of your choice. Boil, boil til the bone crumbles, adding water as needed to keep the bone completely submerged.

Strain, cover and refrigerate the liquid gold. Remove the layer of fat that'll gather on top before using. Freeze or use within a week.

Homemade pork stock + leftover mushroom gravy + a handful of carrots + a bunch of cubed ham + a cup of barley =


Steven actually said, "Doggone it, this soup is delicious, dear."

Much better, thank you!

Had a poopity day today. There's only so long that I can listen to other peoples' problems before I just lose it. And so, I went hunting. For a greasy, fattening and utterly delicious lunch.

Sonic! I thought. Sonic has delicious greasy cheeseburgers AND cherry vanilla Dr. Pepper! Can life get better? I submit that it cannot.

Except...

I've been so bad lately. Eating junk food. Not wanting to cook dinner at night. What's up with that?

So I talked myself down. Topz! That's the solution! It's the guilt-free grill! One grilled ahi tuna burger and an order of baked, not fried onion rings later and I was feeling fine. (and $10 lighter, but that's beside the point, right?)


Yes, I took a picture of my onion ring while stopped at a light. Pipe down! At least I wasn't on a cell phone!

Bay, Bay for Everyone!

We've already established that my parents are awesome, right?

Here is the lovely apron they had made for me when I mentioned wanting a "June Cleaver- type apron" one Christmas. Isn't it cute?!

(Pay no attention to the sumo- hairstyle. That's how I always look in the kitchen.)

But what's that weird plant- like alien life form on the wall? Oh that? That's just my bay leaf wreath. What? You don't have a bay leaf wreath? Oh, for shame. I pity the fool who doesn't have a bay leaf wreath. Bay is so good in so many things. Liiiikkkkeeee...

Mr. Brown's Tomato Sauce

You'll need:

2 (28-ounce) cans whole, peeled tomatoes (or you can use fresh. This is perfect for when your neighbor brings you twelve bushels of their leftover tomatoes.)
1/4 cup sherry vinegar
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 onion
1 carrot
1 stalk celery
2 ounces olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
3 tablespoons capers, rinsed and drained (no capers for me)
1/2 cup white wine (I use chicken broth)
Kosher salt and black pepper, to taste
Bay. Tons of bay. The recipe doesn't call for it, but I think it adds a little extra flavor boost.

In a sieve over a medium non-reactive saucepot, strain the tomatoes of their juice into the sauce pot. Add the sherry vinegar, sugar, red pepper flakes, oregano, and basil (and bay, if you're using it. And why wouldn't you use it?) to the tomato juice. Stir and cook over high heat. Once bubbles begin to form on the surface, reduce to a simmer. Allow liquid to reduce by 1/2 or until liquid has thickened to a loose syrup consistency.

Squeeze each tomato thoroughly to ensure most seeds are removed. Set the tomatoes aside.

Cut carrot, onion, and celery into uniform sizes and combine with olive oil and garlic in a non-reactive roasting pan over low heat. Sweat the mirepoix until the carrots are tender and the onion becomes translucent, 15 to 20 minutes. Add the tomatoes and capers to the roasting pan.

Place roasting pan on the middle rack of the oven and broil for 15 to 20 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes. Tomatoes should start to brown slightly on edges with light caramelization. Remove the pan from the broiler. Place the pan over 2 burners on the stove. Add the white wine to the tomatoes and cook for 2 to 3 more minutes over medium heat.

Put the tomatoes into a deep pot or bowl and add the reduced tomato liquid (minus the bay leaves) to the tomatoes. Blend to desired consistency and adjust seasoning.

Perfect for spaghetti, pizza, or whatever else your twisted little brain can come up with.

Where Dost I Write?

Octamom asked this question, and I think it's an interesting one. It seems that mommy bloggers have a lot to contend with if they want to write. Me, I just sit down and type. Biggest interruption I get is Steven asking me for a cup of coffee. Here's my sanctuary.



Blogging, to me, is therapy. Most of what I write never sees the light of day. My dashboard is a smorgasbord of words, thoughts and ideas, most of which will be deleted. (kinda makes you wonder about my posting process, don't it?)