Clarifying the Pam thing, and passing out some awards

Some of you were frightened and confused by this image in my last post:



And I can't say I blame you. But before you go setting up internet controls to block my blog so that your children don't accidentally stumble upon it, let me assure you that I don't actually have a Pam fetish. Here is the deal. Back when there was only one kind of Pam, I never had this problem. My current Pam issues stem from (1) too many varieties of Pam on the market, all of which seem indispensable to a sucker like me; (2) scatterbrained shopping habits; and (3) scatterbrained home organization habits. I've got three places in my house where Pam might live -- the pantry, the cabinet next to my oven, and in a storage room off the garage. I am just not together enough to check all of these places to evaluate my Pam situation before I head to the grocery store. So when I get to the store, I know that I probably have Pam, but which Pam? I might know that we're out of "Grilling Pam," but I won't be sure what our inventory of "Baking Pam" is, so I'll go ahead and get two Grilling and two Baking, just to be safe (Pam is like Noah's Ark to me -- they come in twos). Then I'll get home and realize that I had a Grilling Pam in the basement after all, and I even had a Baking Pam in the cabinet, but the nozzle on the Baking Pam was blocked up by the flour. But I'll probably get distracted by something or someone before I get a chance to throw out the clogged Baking Pam, and voila! -- now I have three Baking Pams in my cabinet. And with all of these specialty Pams on the market, I fell into a bad spot for a while there of having every kind of Pam but Original Pam, which annoyed the hell out of me. One night after needing Original Pam but only having five Butter Pams, four Grilling Pams and six Baking Pams, I vowed never to be without the classic Original Pam again, and stocked up big time next time I was at the store. And that, my friends, is how you grow your Pam collection. In all seriousness, now that I've actually taken the time to round up all of my Pam from all corners of my house to photograph them, I know that I have PLENTY OF ALL KINDS OF PAM, and will be on a Pam-buying hiatus until at least 2009.

Now that we have that cleared up, I was so tickled to learn that the uber-talented Blonde Duck passed this cool award on to my blog:



If you haven't been over to Duckie's blog yet, you really need to check it out pronto! Duckie writes fun, whimsical, downright magical fiction. Her characters are quirky and full of personality. And she even throws out some great recipes every now and then, even though she doesn't have to -- I'd visit just for the stories! You will, too. Thanks, Duckie!

The rules of this award are:
1. Pick ten people to pass this onto if you choose (please note the emphasis here on the "if you choose" part. I am trying to honor your blog, not give you more work! If you don't want to pass it on, great! If you just want to pass it on to one or two other blogs, terrific! I won't tell the Butterfly Award police, I promise.)
2. Contact them and let them know you have chosen them for this award.
3. Also, link back to the person who gave you the award.

And the Butterfly Award Goes To (in no particular order):

In the "I Love Your Blog So Much, I Had To Award You Twice" category,

Marie of Proud Italian Cook: If Marie posted 10 times a day, I'd wish that she posted 11. I eat up her posts like candy -- I just can't get enough of them.
Laura of she's cooking now: John Taylor was both of our favorite Duran Duran guy, and we both feed our kids frozen dinosaur nuggets every now and then. I feel a serious kinship. Oh, and her blog is really fun, too!
Nancy of The Dogs Eat the Crumbs: I can't even begin to list all that I've learned about cooking from reading Nancy's blog. Thanks to Nancy, I knew what Benton's bacon was and didn't embarrass myself when it was all over the menu at Blackberry Farm. Plus, we share an alma mater!
Maria and Josh of Two Peas and Their Pod: This is how my morning goes on the days I work. I get to the office. Log onto the computer. Go to the breakroom, get hot water for my oatmeal, and read Dear Abby. Go back to my office, toss the papers that are on my chair onto my desk, stir my oatmeal, and read Two Peas and Their Pod. Then, and only then, can I get to work.
Mary Ann of Meet Me In The Kitchen: Mary Ann is a prolific blogger, turning out mouthwatering menus and professional-caliber photographs day in and day out. I don't know how she does it, because I have kids about the same ages as Mare's, and I can barely manage to get some plain chicken and Steamfresh broccoli on the table without injuring myself. So Mary Ann's blog inspires me to do better!

In the "I've Awarded You In My Head Numerous Times, So I Am Thrilled That I Finally Have Some Hardware To Pass On To You" category:

Matt of Matt's Kitchen: Great writing, great ideas, thoughtful posts. A "don't miss" blog.
Lisa of Magic Sprinkles: I knew that I was going to like Lisa when she called me on the fact that I use a carpenter's level when I cook.
Audrey of Food From Books: Entertains me several times a week with her New England wit and her great recipes. I'm going to suffer serious withdrawal when your posts slow down over the next few months, Audrey!
Shari of Whisk: A Food Blog: Shari's blog chronicles her culinary adventures as she works through the Le Cordon Bleu At Home curriculum. Shari is plainly a phenomenal and accomplished cook, and yet her kids complain about her food sometimes, too! It gives mere mortals like me a tiny bit of hope!
Clara of I Heart Food For Thought: So many great recipes, and Clara is just so clearly a fun person. I get a lift whenever I read her blog.
Di of Di's Kitchen Notebook: I love reading Di's blog because I know that I'll always be getting real, honest, down to earth posts. And great food, too!

Thanks for reading!

CEimB: Oven Fried Chicken

This is my first post for a new blogging group that I just joined


Craving Ellie in My Belly ("CEimB" -- just for fun, I'll go ahead and define some terms for my peeps back at the office!), which is a group that will be cooking its way through Ellie Krieger's "The Food You Crave."

After much deliberation, I decided to join CEimB because:

(1) I'm a joiner. It's what I do. I join, therefore I am.
(2) I've really been looking for a healthy cooking blogging group. I LOVE Tuesdays with Dorie and Barefoot Bloggers, but sometimes my arteries just get tired of being caught in the middle of the epic battle between Dorie and Ina over who can use the most butter. Light cooking feels more normal and familiar to me, and I've heard rave reviews about this cookbook. I've enjoyed doing the occasional Cooking Light Night post (thanks, Clara!) and reading Cooking Light Night posts by my blogger friends, so I thought it would be fun to try the light cooking concept in a more formal group.
(3) My work friends Amanda, Peggy, and Jen signed up for CEimB, and I didn't want to feel left out of the water cooler talk. I'm already the last to know all the office dirt since I only work part time. It's not that interesting, but still.
(4) I joined the group early enough that I might actually get to choose a recipe sometime before the next millennium!
(5) I respect any blogging group that goes the extra mile to come up with a rhyming group name.

So, here we go! The first recipe is for Oven Fried Chicken, which is theoretically the perfect choice for my family. While I almost always blog about how David and I like the food that I make, I rarely blog about what my children think of it. That's because my children don't eat what I cook. Really! It's not just a catchy profile slogan! My two older kids are maddeningly picky eaters, and chicken nuggets are among the foods they will eat, along with peanut butter waffles, fish sticks, grilled cheese sandwiches, Scooby cheese (it's like regular cheese but it comes in a Scooby Doo wrapper), french fries, grapes, and cereal. Their preferred eating style reminds me of the preferred decorating style of some of the hip interior designers of the mid-2000s: very monochromatic, very beige-on-beige. They will tolerate a punch of color in the form of ketchup, and in fairness to them, they'll eat a red apple or a piece of orange cantaloupe, and if all the planets align, the occasional green vegetable. But try to jazz up a naturally beige food like chicken or potatoes with green flecks, and it's freak-o-rama at the dinner table.

So I was excited about this one because it could potentially be marketed to them as chicken fingers and served with dipping sauce (aka ketchup). In fact, I decided to skip the thighs and cut the breasts into strips from the outset. Also, I knew that I could control the flavor and color content to maximize the chances that the 6 year old and 3 year old would eat it. And who knows? -- maybe it would even earn me rave reviews such as "I don't like it, but I can eat it without holding my nose." Oh yes, check your ego at the door before signing up for this parenting gig.

In terms of the ingredients, I knew that sesame seeds would not get me closer to my goal of getting my kids to eat these. So I skipped them. I also cut the cayenne down from 3/4 teaspoon to more like 1/4 teaspoon. See, blander already!

Other than those small changes, I stuck to the recipe, and these came together easily.

Crackers (I used Whole Grain Wheat Thins), corn flakes, garlic powder and a wee bit of cayenne:




And egg whites, yogurt, dijon & salt for the first dredging:


Aaaaaaaaand then dredge again in the crumb mixture.

I went downstairs to my Pam cellar and retrieved my finest 2008 Olive Oil Pam:



[I know you're going to ask, Amanda. Yes, I think I buy Pam even more obsessively than than I buy ice cream sundae toppings. No, I don't know what's wrong with me. But please continue to enable me and bring me any coupons you happen to see -- thanks!]

Lightly sprayed my chicken fingers, and baked:



Incidentally, I only used half the meat called for, and I still ran out of crumbs. That's why there are those three sorry little half naked chicken pieces at the bottom of my baking sheet. Next time, I think I'll increase the amount of the crumb mixture.

Plated the chicken with a careful eye towards the presentation:



And served to my toughest critics:




The verdict?

J, age 6: "Ummmmm. I don't really like it. Well, it's pretty good if you put a lot of ketchup on it. Actually, this is too spicy. And I put my cheese toast in the grape area so the bottom got soggy. May I please have dessert?"

E, age 3.5: "It's too cinnamon!"

C, age 14 months: Ate it with gusto, then chanted "muh, muh, muh, da! da! da! da!"(translation, "I want more. When is Daddy getting home?") and then as soon as I let her out of the high chair, headed straight to the pantry to eat a paper plate that was on the floor. She is so refreshingly easy to please.)

Mom, age 36 (the reasoned voice of objective reality): These really were a bit too spicy for most kids, I think, even with the smaller amount of cayenne. I'll leave the cayenne out next time so that my kids can come up with a different reason not to eat them. I thought this was excellent oven fried chicken. Nice and crispy on the outside, but the chicken stayed moist and tender, and had a great flavor. They definitely had a little kick to them. I assume they would have had a lot of kick if I used the full amount of cayenne called for in the recipe.

Dad, age 36.5 (really, almost a full year older than Mom): Really enjoyed these. Upon learning that they were too spicy for the kids, said "Great! More for me!"

Summary: I still think this is a family friendly recipe despite the fact that only one of my children ate them. I'll leave out the cayenne next time, but they'll definitely show up again in our rotation. They were really easy to throw together, and one of the better oven fried chicken recipes I've tried lately. All in all, this was a great way to kick off CEimB! Thanks for picking this, Macduff of Lonely Sidecar!!!

OVEN FRIED CHICKEN, from Ellie Krieger's "The Food You Crave"
Ingredients
1/2 sleeve (about 20) whole-grain salted crackers, pulsed in a food processor until fine (about 1/2 cup)
2 1/2 cups corn cereal flakes, pulsed in a food processor to fine crumbs (about 1/2 cup)
2 tablespoons sesame seeds
3/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
2 egg whites
1 cup lowfat, plain yogurt
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1/2 teaspoon salt
Olive oil cooking spray
4 medium sized skinless chicken breasts and 4 skinless chicken thighs, rinsed and patted dry (about 3 1/2 pounds chicken)
Directions
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Lightly spray a baking sheet with olive oil.

Combine the crackers and corn cereal crumbs, sesame seeds, cayenne, and garlic powder in a shallow bowl. Reserve.

In a large bowl, combine egg whites, yogurt, Dijon mustard, and salt. Add the chicken pieces and coat thoroughly with the yogurt mixture.

One at a time, dip the chicken pieces in the cracker mixture, packing crumbs onto chicken. Arrange the chicken on a baking sheet and spray lightly with olive oil cooking spray.

Bake for 45 to 50 minutes, or until juices run clear when chicken is pierced with a knife.

TWD: Arborio Rice Pudding

I'm having a lot of "I'm not as young as I used to be" moments lately. Like when I went into Abercrombie a couple of weeks ago to buy a present for my pre-teen niece, and was completely overwhelmed by the smell of cologne, pulsating loud music, and oversized pictures of half naked people on the wall. Maybe it's just me, but the very day that I left the 18-34 demographic, in addition to becoming less desirable to advertisers, I lost all ability to be in Abercrombie for more than 3 seconds without feeling utterly desperate to leave. As I stood in the checkout line, I found myself praying for the line to move faster, and in return I promised to be a better person and a more faithful servant starting the moment I exited the store. After mercifully completing my transaction and departing, I felt like quite the cougar walking around the mall with my Abercrombie shopping bag, which, natch, was adorned on all four sides with young naked lads.

And then there's Rolling Stone magazine, which my husband has been getting since college. Reading Rolling Stone on a regular basis will either keep you young (David), or age you prematurely (me). It has become something of a joke in our house, because as far as we know, we don't pay for this magazine. They never send us renewal notices, so we can't decline to renew, and we have never notified them of our new address when we move. And yet, somehow Rolling Stone always finds us. So every two weeks, no matter where we are in the world, the mailman or a carrier pigeon will drop Rolling Stone on our doorstep, and every two weeks, I read it and find myself perplexed, in that way that old people are, at the music that the kids are listening to today, and their crazy "Young Hollywood" party ways, and the fact that Kim Kardashian is even a little bit famous. Yes, back in the days before fire, we partied with Prince! And we did it without getting arrested!

But really, nothing tells me that I am getting old quite like the fact that I enjoyed this rice pudding. As a kid, I thought of rice pudding as an "old lady dessert." I'll have to investigate further to figure out why I thought this. Mom, did Grandma used to serve rice pudding to the ladies on pinochle night? I like to believe that my thoughts about many things have evolved a bit since I was six, but my thinking on one issue has remained firmly entrenched over the past thirty years: rice pudding = old lady dessert. And yet here I am, helping myself to seconds. Hand me my reading glasses, David, I'm making us some more rice pudding!

Well, I should have known as soon as I read the simple-seeming directions that making this would give me fits. It sounded too easy to be true. Parboil the rice and set it aside, and then stir together milk and sugar and bring it to a boil.

A watched pan of sugared milk never boils:



Eventually it did boil, of course, and like the good little recipe-follower that I am, I turned it down to low and set the kitchen timer for 30 minutes. I stirred occasionally, as I was directed to do. And thirty minutes later, it looked exactly the same as it did to begin with! I felt like I was trying to rise kugelhopf dough again, what with all that was not happening in my kitchen despite the passage of the prescribed period of time. I decided to be crazy and turn the heat up to medium low. I continued to stir occasionally, and the sugar/milk continued to not do much of anything. Finally, probably close to an hour into the process, if I looked really really hard, I thought that I could see the rice floating under the surface.

Thar she blows!



Okay, so Dorie says that means that it's almost done -- great! I let it go a few more minutes, and divided it into a couple of bowls. I made one vanilla, and one chocolate:



It was very much still liquid, but I wasn't worried -- Dorie said that it would be, and that the puddingification would occur once it chilled for six hours. Well, alas, for me, pudding was not to be. Mine stayed liquid. I almost threw it out, but then Audrey suggested that I keep it and use a bendy straw instead. I tell you, I just have the coolest, smartest blogging friends! Thanks, Audrey!

Arborio Rice Pudding: The Liquid Years



But for the fact that there is something inherently unpleasant about arborio rice coming at you through a straw, this would have been a fabulous milkshake! The flavor really was wonderful.

Well, to paraphrase my friend Lisa, "I'm no quitter," so I decided to try again to achieve actual pudding. Another good blogging friend, Flourchild, gave me the heads up that I could try heating my rice soup again rather than starting over, which sounded like a great idea. Unfortunately, the liquid stuff had been sitting in my fridge for close to a week by that point, so I had to toss it. For round two, I cut the milk down to 3 cups instead of 3 1/4 cups, and I cooked it on medium low from the get-go. It gently bubbled away, again for significantly longer than 30 minutes (I did not see Dorie's post on the P&Q until after I made this, but I bet that I cooked it in the 55 minute to one hour range), and by the time I took it out of the pan, it definitely seemed much thicker than it did after my first attempt. I was feeling more optimistic that I'd indeed get pudding this time around. And I did get pudding!

Arborio Rice Pudding: The Pudding Years



This was SO good! The texture (which would have caused me to avoid this dessert in the past) seemed just right to me. The flavor was perfect. I preferred the vanilla to the chocolate. I was going to add in some chambord-soaked somethings to it, but I ran out of time. Maybe next time, because I'll be making this again for sure. Round 2 wasn't ready until Monday night, so I gave some to David as an appetizer before he left for a business dinner (he is getting used to me begging him to eat my desserts at random odd times). He really enjoyed it too. I think that this will be the perfect dessert to take us into our sunset years. Thank you, Isabelle of Les Gourmandises d'Isa, for causing me to take a second look at rice pudding. I'm glad that I did!

Barefoot Bloggers: Roasted Onions

No time for a long post today ("there is a God!!" you say) -- the hubs and I are trying to get out of town for the weekend for our 10th anniversary, and I have to pack, go clothes shopping, buy presents for the weekend birthday parties, locate and remove all of the choking hazards to make things easier for the grandparents (without whom this trip would not be possible), install a plexiglass barrier over our railings because my 14 month old is trying to squeeze through the balusters, go grocery shopping (again), cook a big pot of chili so there is something in the fridge to eat while we are gone, and possibly redo my liquefied rice pudding. And clean. And hand sanitize in a borderline-obsessive way, because two of my three children have had the stomach bug over the past week, and I will cry a river of pitiful salty tears if the cooties strike me this weekend. I'll take the stomach bug, a cold and pink eye all at the same time if they will just hold off until Monday.

But first, roasted onions! This is a fun, unusual choice; of course, I'd expect nothing less from Kelly over at Baking with the Boys. Kelly's blog is your one-stop source for cooking fun -- where else can you go to find dimply plumosaurus cake, gigantimuffins and punk rock pie?

I didn't really understand the first instruction about how to cut the onion:

Remove the stem end of each onion and carefully slice off the brown part of the root end, leaving the root intact. Peel the onion. Stand each onion root end up on a cutting board and cut the onion in wedges through the root. Place the wedges in a bowl.

I only understood the "place the wedges in a bowl" part of that. Even studying the picture in my copy of "Barefoot Contessa at Home" did not help me one bit. But I decided not to sweat it; I figured as long as I didn't go and do something crazy like mince the onions, they'd taste fine in the end.

My interpretation of removing the stem end/preserving the root end/standing onion on the former stem end/cutting through the formerly preserved root end:




Successful placement of wedges in bowl:




The dressing was fabulous. Coming right on the heels of not having butternut squash on Saturday, Publix did not have fresh thyme yesterday -- oh Publix, how you infuriate me sometimes! -- and there was just no thyme for a scavenger hunt, so I went with dried. But we thought the dressing was great; I think this would be wonderful on salad, too:




I love that there was no marinating time involved. I really needed that after the kugelhopf. Just toss the onions with the dressing and then put them on the pan as fast as your little heart desires:



They smelled wonderful while they were roasting! And looked great coming out of the oven:



We really enjoyed these! We had them with a rotisserie chicken from Publix (I pushed the Easy button there) and some mashed potatoes. While we liked these onions as a stand alone side dish, I would be more likely next time to toss them in pasta dishes or use them in paninis and on pizzas, etc. I will definitely make this again. Thanks, Kelly!

ROASTED ONIONS, FROM BAREFOOT CONTESSA AT HOME
2 red onions
1 yellow onion
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1/2 tablespoon minced fresh thyme leaves
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup good olive oil
1/2 tablespoon minced fresh parsley leaves
Directions
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Remove the stem end of each onion and carefully slice off the brown part of the root end, leaving the root intact. Peel the onion. Stand each onion root end up on a cutting board and cut the onion in wedges through the root. Place the wedges in a bowl.

For the dressing, combine the lemon juice, mustard, garlic, thyme, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Slowly whisk in the olive oil. Pour the dressing over the onions and toss well.

With a slotted spoon, transfer the onions to a sheet pan, reserving the vinaigrette that remains in the bowl. Bake the onions for 30 to 45 minutes, until tender and browned. Toss the onions once during cooking. Remove from the oven, and drizzle with the reserved dressing. Sprinkle with parsley, season to taste and serve warm or at room temperature.

TWD: Kugelhopf

When I went to pick up my daughter from preschool last week, her teacher rushed up to me and said: "Elizabeth sang her very favorite song for us today, and we all really enjoyed it! Elizabeth, do you want to sing your favorite song for your mommy?" I was fully expecting to hear "Five Little Pumpkins Sitting on a Gate," since this was what she'd been singing the most at home, complete with wind-blowing sounds and having the wind blow out the lights. So imagine my surprise when instead, I heard her sweet, tiny little voice belt out, in perfect tune:

She wore them apple bottom jeans
Boots with the furrrrr (with the fur!) [yes, she did indeed include the second "with the fur" line]
The whole club was looking at her
She hit the flo'
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low . . .

As the teachers threw back their heads and howled, I squirmed and said "Oh! Um. Heh. Heh heh. Gosh, Miss Kelly. I don't know where Elizabeth would have heard Flo Rida and T-Pain. We only listen to Raffi at home. Um. That's something else, alright."

The moral of this story is that kids will soak in absolutely anything, just like my Kugelhopf. But whereas hip hop lyrics and three year olds might be considered "a bad kind of soaking in," we'd all agree that melted butter and warm brioche is most definitely "a good kind of soaking in."




Backing up, I wanted to share what my sweet hubby got me for my birthday a couple of weeks ago. I was pretty excited when I saw the box. What could it be?




(Gasp!) It's a Kugelhopf pan!! How did you know? Thanks, honey!

Well, let me just say that nothing about this project was relaxing. I managed to dodge yeast for my first 12 TWD weeks, so I guess it was just a matter of time before I had to deal with it. When I first read through this recipe, I completely freaked out, started having night terrors and panic attacks by day was a bit nervous. Yeast and I have a long, sordid history. I don't like it and it doesn't like me. We deal with each other by avoiding each other, and that has worked just fine until now.



Is it dissolving? Is the milk warm enough? Is the milk too hot? Am I using the right kind of yeast? Is it still active? Heck if I know.

I forged ahead and added the flour mixture to the yeast mixture. At that point, you basically just let the Kitchen Aid do its thing until the dough "climbs up the dough hook." Like this? Maybe?



This was super stretchy, sticky, gooey dough. The thought of raisins actually mixing into it seemed absurd. I folded them in the best I could:



And then set it in my oven (which was not on) to rise for a couple of hours. There is some serious "waiting around" involved with this kugelhopf. Fortunately,the same day that I made the kugelhopf, some friends talked me into joining this newfangled "Facebook" thing, which is pure crack and possibly the biggest time black hole ever invented. As an enthusiastic Facebook newbie, I was able to pass the time giving my far-flung, long lost friends constant updates on my kugelhopf, which I am sure made them wish that I had stayed lost.

Before:



After:



I decided to call that doubled, and stuck it in the fridge. It was about 11:30 p.m. at that point. I went back to the recipe and realized that I was now supposed to slap the dough every 30 minutes for the next two hours. Quick breads are just not this high maintenance. I decided to split the baby, slap the dough twice, and go to bed at 12:30. If my kugelhopf flopped because of my failure to do the 1 a.m. and 1:30 a.m. smack down, then so be it.

I saw Amanda the next day and told her that I was baking it that night and was seriously worried. She said "you just need to give it a little looooooove before you put it into the pan." See, that's exactly the kind of vague, non-specific instruction that gets me into trouble time and time again. Not knowing what Amanda meant by "loooooove," I gently put it into the pan and said "please rise, baby."

So, so not optimistic:



I stuck it in my oven (which was off) and checked it an hour later. It had not done a thing (yes, I know it's supposed to take 2 or 3 hours, but I was alarmed by the utter sameness of the dough from when I first stuck it in there). Then I remembered that my oven has something called a "proofing" feature, and I dug out the manual to see what that was all about. It said:"The proofing feature maintains a warm environment useful for rising yeast-leavened products." Yes, rising yeast-leavened products, that's my situation. I decided that I might as well make full use all of the technology at my disposal to try to compensate for my lack of talent:



Hallelujah!


It baked up to a lovely golden brown color:



And came out of the pan without any trouble (I take nothing for granted):




I then melted the butter and brushed it on the kugelhopf, and sprinkled it all with sugar. Even though it was once again after midnight, I made David stay up to try some, because Dorie says to eat it right away, and I always listen to Dorie. We both really enjoyed the kugelhopf, but we had a hard time coming up with occasions that would just seem to scream for kugelhopf. We decided that it's not exactly what you want for dessert on your major (or even your minor) holidays -- to us, it seemed more like a breakfast bread than a dessert. And yet, unless you want to wake up in the middle of the night, it won't work as a "good morning, sunshine!" kind of bread, what with the 3 hour rising time that precedes the actual baking. It would be a fine addition to any brunch table (just be sure to make it a late brunch). It would also be lovely at High Tea, for those of you who do that. Or (hypothetically) it might be the perfect midnight snack to cap off another wild Friday night of watching Flight of the Conchords on You Tube. Just as an example.

While this was not my favorite TWD recipe so far, it is definitely the one that I am most proud of. It forced me to face my yeastaphobia head on, and I was richly rewarded with the best remedy for the 12:45 a.m. munchies ever! And I especially enjoyed it a couple of days later when I toasted it under the broiler and spread a little apricot jam on it. So, there you have it, another TWD success! Thank you, Yolanda from All-Purpose Girl, for picking a fun, challenging and tasty recipe!

TWD: Rugelach

One of my favorite insults ever was recently directed at me by my friend Julie, a fellow TWD-er. Julie and I work together in real life, and have been working together on a notsofun project that involves spending most of the day on the phone with lots of justifiably irate people. One day, there was a lot going on with this project, and I kept calling Julie, emailing her, and stopping by her office. I finally must have bugged her one time too many, because when I knocked on her door, she looked up at me and said "You again! I like you better online." Ah, Jules. Right back atcha, babe. I sure wish that "online Julie" made more regular appearances (although I get MORE than my fill of real life Julie, trust me).

Well, in contrast to the way that Julie feels about me, I could not get enough of this rugelach. So thank you, Piggy of Piggy's Cooking Journal, for picking this special treat. It's the kind of cookie (pastry?) that makes me feel like a real baker! I didn't want to disappoint Dorie, Dorie's mother-in-law, or Mrs. Strauss, so I made it a few different ways.

This is my kind of dough -- four ingredients that can be whipped together in no time. I was a little bit worried about overmixing, and I thought that I might have gone a few seconds too long with my first batch:




but it baked up just right. I felt more confident with my second batch and knew when to stop processing. My first batch sat in the fridge for days before I got around to topping it, and was a little bit easier to work with than my second batch, which was only refrigerated for a few hours.

Rolling out the dough was a bit stressful for me, since it required that I use judgment. I can no more reliably eyeball "10 or 11 inches" than I can solve Fermat's Last Theorem. So I used a ruler.


I realize that the shape that I rolled does not even remotely resemble a circle. What can I tell you? I'm just not very good at this.

I remember taking a standardized test in high school that measured your aptitude in various subject areas, and then based on your score, provided a narrative analysis of careers that may be suited to your academic strengths. In addition to the usual math and reading, there was a section on "spatial relations," which tested how well you perceive sizes and shapes. I scored abysmally on the spatial relations section, and my narrative said something like: "Whatever you do, we beg you, please don't be an architect." And as you can see based on my efforts to cut my dough into 1/16ths, this analysis was spot-on.

Big Daddy rugelach and teeny tiny rugelach:




Filling the rugelach was the fun part. The sky's the limit in terms of what you can put in these. I liked Dorie's classic combos and figured that they would serve as a good starting point.


I made some with raspberry jam and some with apricot jam. Half of my raspberry ones had chocolate (I used semisweet rather than bittersweet), the other half did not, only because I love my husband. For the apricot ones, I used pecans, golden raisins and white chocolate chips.

Four-ish ounces of chocolate, give or take, according to my flimsy, antique and not-very-accurate kitchen scale:




Dear Santa Claus,

I have been a really, really good girl this year. I did not fight with my sister, and I have tried extra hard to watch my language. All I want for Christmas is this digital kitchen scale, which was recommended to me by my blogger friend Nancy. Can your elves make that? If not, I'm told that the website that I linked for you is THE PLACE for all of your weighing and measuring needs. Thank you, Santa. We'll have lots and lots (and lots) of cookies for you if you stop by our house this year. And tell Rudolph that we'll save him a carrot!

Your friend,
Cathy

After topping and cutting these, it's time to roll them. I was prepared for things to go very poorly for me at this stage of the game. But to my relief, they rolled up fairly easily. The longer the dough sits out, the harder they are to roll. Incidentally, just a couple of days before I made this rugelach, my son gave me this for my birthday:



I had no earthly idea what it was -- I thought that the "other part" of it was in a different gift bag, and when I put the two pieces together it would all make sense. But no, David said that he let our 6 year old loose in Williams-Sonoma and told him to pick out a gadget for me, and that's what he picked. I just held it up and said "it's a metal thing! I LOVE it, honey!!" Well, imagine my delight when I sniffed around a bit on the WS website a few days later and realized that it was a pastry scraper, perfect for this:



It really did make the rolling easier, especially after the dough had been sitting out for a while.

Well, what can I say? We just loved this rugelach. I loved the rugelach. David loved the rugelach. David's parents were in town and they loved the rugelach. I am a gusher, you know that I'm a gusher, and I'm sure that my gushing rings hollow by now -- but these are definitely some of the best cookies (pastries?) that I've ever had. Dorie makes a passing reference to buying rugelach in a German bakery, and since David lived in Germany for several years as a small child, I was eager to ask him how this rugelach compared to the rugelach of his childhood. He said that he remembers being chased through the apartment building by a 10 foot tall St. Bernard, and remembers having the bejeezus scared out of him when he had to ride a log down into the salt mines on a trip to Salzburg -- but has no recollection whatsoever of rugelach. Okay, so that wasn't helpful. But he did love these! As for whether I preferred the raspberry or the apricot, well, that's sort of like the eternal "George Clooney or Brad Pitt?" question. Personally, I'm a George woman myself, but I'm not going to kick Brad out of bed for eating crackers. The raspberry and chocolate combo was pretty close to cookie nirvana as far as I'm concerned, but the apricot was awfully good too. And there are several other combos that I've got in mind that I am dying to try, such as apple jelly with walnuts, and orange marmalade with dried cranberries, and I can't even imagine the abundance of additional brilliant ideas that I'll collect from my fellow TWD bakers. In fact, all of this yapping about rugelach is cutting into my rugelach-making time. Gotta run! Thanks again, Piggy, for a great pick!

Cooking Light Night: Election Night Slow Cooker White Beans & Smoked Sausage

Election Day is less than a week away, so of course I've started thinking about the menu! In 2000, before we or any of our friends had kids, we threw a returns-watching party on Election Night. I won't tell you if we celebrated or mourned that night, as this is not that kind of blog, but I will tell you that we SURE WERE GLAD that we had eaten a stick-to-your-ribs kind of dinner like sausage and beans to get us through a long night of states being givethed and takethed away.

So here we are, eight years later. Given that the polls will still be open in California when my bedtime rolls around, we won't be having a returns-watching party this year, but we do so love a manufactured tradition in our house, so you can bet that we'll stick with our traditional Election Night sausage and white bean supper! In fact, as if by fate, an email from Cooking Light landed in my inbox a couple of weeks ago: "42 Slow Cooker Favorites," and it included this recipe for "Tiny French Beans with Smoked Sausage."

Cooking Light recommends that you use "flageolets," which are small french beans. While I am willing to run around town looking for some crazy foods, dried beans ain't one of them. Cooking Light does helpfully provide an online source for flageolets, Indian Harvest. I know that any day now, I am going to cross into that "crazy foodie" territory and start trolling the internet for specialty ingredients, but you can rest assured that my first online food purchase will not be beans.

Okay! Now that I am finished disparaging beans and declaring them not worthy of my time, let's move on to my bean dinner, shall we? First, the ingredient rundown. To the surprise of no one, Publix did not have flageolets. They had Great Northern beans, so rather than using "tiny French beans," I used "medium American beans."




I used fresh rosemary instead of either dried or fresh thyme. Because I knew that even if "my guy" doesn't win, fresh rosemary makes everything seem a little better. And I threw a bay leaf in there, just 'cause. And for extra credit, I used some leftover homemade chicken stock instead of canned.

This is an easy dish to put together. Brown up your sausage. Then saute up some shallots and garlic. Rinse and sort either your fancy pants beans or your regular old beans, depending on how lazy of a shopper you were.

Regular ol' beans:



And then mix it all up in your magic Crock Pot, and go vote!



The recipe said to cook this on high for 8 hours, but mine was definitely done after 6.5 hours. It was actually looking a little angry by then, to be honest with you, and I don't think it would have enjoyed the extra hour and a half in the hot tub. Next time, I might try it on low and just see how long it takes.

This is a great fall dish -- hearty, comforting, and quick to put together. And who doesn't love coming home and having dinner ready and waiting? When you're in the mood for a hot bowl of something, add this one to your short list!

And thanks again, Clara, for generously sharing your Cooking Light Night idea and avatar with us!


Tiny French Beans with Smoked Sausage, from Cooking Light, March 2003

Yield
8 servings (serving size: 1 1/4 cups)

Ingredients
2 pounds smoked turkey sausage, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/3 cup minced shallots
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 cups dried flageolets or other dried white beans, (about 1 pound)
2 cups water
1/4 cup minced fresh or 1 tablespoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon celery seeds
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 (14 1/2-ounce) cans fat-free, less-sodium chicken broth
Preparation

Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add sausage; sauté 5 minutes or until browned. Remove from pan, and place in an electric slow cooker. Heat the oil in pan over medium heat. Add shallots and garlic; cook 1 minute, stirring constantly.

Sort and wash beans. Add beans, shallot mixture, water, and the remaining ingredients to slow cooker. Cover and cook on high 8 hours or until beans are tender.


Nutritional Information
Calories:397 (30% from fat)
Fat:13.1g (sat 3.7g,mono 4.3g,poly 3.7g)
Protein:29.7g
Carbohydrate:41.4g
Fiber:8.6g
Cholesterol:75mg
Iron:5.2mg
Sodium:1105mg
Calcium:143mg