Interested in experiencing Jesus? The care and feeding of your favorite diabetic? Baking or cooking for others? Crafts? Sewing? Hospitality? Glady going gray?
Me, too.
- humofdelicious
- humofdelicious printables
Loading,
0
% complete-
Posts
- Apr 17, 13Follow my blog with BloglovinWant a fruit rollup?Just foolin'.Unless you're willing to agree that the tomato is a fruit, that is--something my sweet husband would never admit--you're out of luck.Nope, these little babies aren't strawberry, raspberry, or any berry at all. They're portable SALSA.Tomatoes-jalepeno-lime-cilantro-garlic...leather.Sure, it'd make a great April Fool's joke, so by all means try it.But it's also darn tasty. Yes, it will catch you off guard at first bite, exactly like the -!?!- a gulp of Sprite gives you when you are expecting water, but the disequilibrium is delightful. I know it's an interesting lunchbox snack and a great tortilla liner, and I'll let you know whether slivers on a salad are as good as I think they're going to be.Since my dehydrator arrived after Christmas, it's running nearly 24/7. Fruits, mostly. There's an issue with storage of dried vegetables: I only have so much space for quart jars of Things to Use Later. Once I accumulated a pretty stash of soup-ready parsnips, carrots, sauteed leeks, squash, tomatoes, kale...it was time to move on.With fruits and leathers having a good way to keep it is no problem. Mostly because there's no storage needed...it never lasts long enough to need anything other than some temporary keep-the-dust-off spot to rest.Last week we snacked our way through eight apples, six pears and two pineapples, with a very minimal amount of sweetener added. If I hurry and start the next batch as soon as the trays can be washed, we can almost make the last batch last until the next five trays are ready a few hours later. Leathers are impossible to keep stocked, so I don't try. I just make them when the fancy strikes me and when they're gone, they're gone.Making Your OwnDrying leathers is an art, not a science, so you just have to resign yourself to fiddling with each batch. I swear the relative humidity and temperature inside the house and even the amount of water each individual fruit happens to have all together make a difference to the finished product. One batch, made precisely like the previous batch, can come out gooey-er or drier. But unless you're trying to market it or bribe a visiting dignitary with it, who cares?We eat it all no matter how it comes out of the dehydrator, whether perfect, slightly tacky, or thin and crackly. "The variation is interesting," C remarked one day while he was vigorously yanking a triangle of what can only be called fruit jerky between teeth and fist. (He looked a bit like a dog trying to get a rope toy away from its master, in the cutest possible way, of course.) The point is, it's all good.This little variation came to me courtesy of a 4-a.m. burglar alarm hiccup. There's not much point trying to pretend sleep is possible after running a four-person keystone-cop routine in the dark. Lying there afterwards, yearning for the last 80 minutes of my usual night's sleep, it just popped into my mind: try Sweetpea's salsa in the dehydrator.Once it was light enough to reasonable be up, I googled for a recipe. The web's awash with "how to make fruit leather" recipes, but search for "salsa leather" and you get pictures of purses and shoes...and sofas. (I later found this page with a dried tomato sauce recipe and all kinds of other interesting recipes that start in the dehydrator.) I figured it couldn't be all that different from blending some peaches. It isn't.While I do fruit leathers straight on the little silicone rings that came with the dehydrator, I was concerned about the strong scent of garlic somehow attaching itself and tainting future sweet leathers. A quick dig through the drawer offered a few possibilities: parchment paper, aluminum foil, plastic wrap, and this new-ish Reynolds parchment-foil stuff.Not only is the plastic annoying to cut in the donut-shape required for my dehydrator, it just made a melty mess. The salsa tasted fine even if it was in pieces, but I'm not sure I like having it on plastic wrap over heat.
So it's Reynolds Pan Lining Paper for me.
Here's how:
1. Puree your favorite salsa very smooth. If you're making it yourself, you might want to go a little light on garlic and salt, since dehydrating concentrates the flavors.
2. Pour into the leather trays on a dehydrator and cure at 140 degrees until it reaches your favorite consistency. The pictured batch "cooked" a little too long--about 8 hours on a rainy winter day in Louisiana--so you'll just have to check it along the way.
I've read that you can do this in a very slow oven (170 degrees) if you don't have a dehydrator, but the only time I tried it--hoping for ribbons of leather rather than triangles--it showed me that my pan is warped. The puree puddled in the middle and just didn't dry. You might have a better pan, so plop your silicone baking mat in it and spread your puree over it. Whatever comes out, it will taste good even if it's got problem spots.Whether for an April Fool's trick or a lunchbox treat, it's really good...no foolin'.p.s. If you're wondering, this is my dehydrator. I debated whether to buy it because I don't have a whole lot of places to store something so big. I shouldn't have worried. It stays on the counter, running...delicious white noise. - Feb 16, 13
My lovely and generous neighbor Michele had a LOT of citrus on her trees this season, and she's not the only one. Seems everywhere I went before Christmas, someone was graciously offering or eagerly taking lemons, oranges, tangerines or satsumas. I've been asking everybody who's taking or giving: "What do you do with it?"
I have heard precisely three replies:- eat one a day (oranges),
- make one pitcher of lemonade after another, and
- freeze lemon juice as ice cubes.
That's it.
Come on, now. In a part of the world celebrated for its food? With the internet and Pinterest in our very pockets? That's the best we can do? I don't think so.
When there's fresh fruit to be had and neighbors willing to donate it in the interest of (kitchen) science, I'm determined to try as many recipes as possible that don't end with "-ade."So far:citrus handscrublimoncelloarancello
citricello (and each in the "di crema" variety as well)orange corriander liqueurcandied peelsorange vanilla bean jellylemon vanilla bean jellyburgandy orange jellythe first two jellies in a no-sugar-added varietyorange date walnut breadlemon ricotta muffinsfruit leatherdried fruit sections for hot tea/snacking...!
And these.They are made from an old Iraqi recipe I found online in the middle of one night and now cannot find to save me. (If you know where it is, please tell me, and I'll give credit!)
I made these before Christmas, sorry. We've been caught up in such a crazy time around here since then with so many more serious issues to think about that I never got around to posting it. Still, they're worth looking at even in January. Ponder the possibilities for snacks in non-Christmas shapes; it's what I'm doing. Hearts for Valentines (post soon!), Crowns for Mardi Gras, Shamrocks for St. Patty's Day.
Or just cubes for the average Thursday, like these:
These little sweeties are what the French call pate de fruit [PAHT duh fwee]. Think gumdrops, but all natural. Think your morning glass of orange juice molded into candy-aisle orange slices.
Think yum.
I think they might be vegan friendly, since they don't use commercial gelatin like most recipes do, but I'm not sure. It's just one whole piece of fruit, some sugar, and a little time (most of it without your attention), and the results were perfect for both the season's bounty and the season's gifting.
Time: about 10-minutes hands-on time, about 40 minutes total.Ingredients:one nice-sized orange (see below for other citrus to use)3/4 cup sugarmaybe just a little powdered pectin, depending (see recipe)Method:(Don't faint...it's not hard at all!)
Boil the fruit whole in enough water to cover. I used a pot lid from a smaller pot to hold the fruit under the water, as you can see in the picture at right.
While the fruit is cooking, prepare your container. You can use a pan lined with parchment and slice the candy into cubes. Or, if you have them, spray with non-stick cooking spray and use a silicone mold like this "anyday" shape or the holiday-appropriate mold of your choice.Dip the fruit out into a bowl and dump the water. You'll need the pot in a little while. Let the fruit cool enough so you can easily touch it.
Decision time: how much do you like the slight bitterness of pith? If you like it a lot, dump the whole fruit and any juices that have run out into your blender. If, like me, you're fonder of biting into very sweet things that don't bite you back, remove and discard about half of the peel. THEN dump everything in the blender.
Add 3/4 cup sugar to the blender and liquefy the contents. If you discover you missed a seed, use a knife blade to remove it. (I don't know why this works at removing particles without taking too much fruit with it, but it does.) Some bigger bits of zest look pretty and work out just fine, but do puree the fruit. No lumps allowed!Return this sugary slurry to the pot. If you've removed part of the peel, sprinkle 1/2 - 1 teaspoon of powdered pectin over the top, depending on how juicy your fruit turned out to be. (I used Ball low-sugar pectin.) Heat over medium to a low boil.Watch and stir frequently (or end up scrubbing to get rid of stuck-on goop...not that I know that or anything) until it's nice and thick. You'll know it's done when you dip a wooden spoon in and it clings instead of drips. Tip: don't let it cook too long, or it will CLUMP instead of cling.
Spread into the prepared pan and use a spatula to smooth the top, or dip by spoonfuls into whatever mold you want to use. Set aside for 4 hours or longer to firm up.Finally, sugar coat everything. Prepare a pan with superfine sugar or granulated sugar spread about 1/4 inch deep. Slice or unmold your jelly and place in the sugar. Roll to cover, leave to sit for a day or so. Roll them every time you pass by. The flavor improves and so does the texture, so a day or more of rest-and-roll is ideal.
Look how pretty!Other citrus fruit variations I've tried:--one of our very large local Meyer lemons--three limes--three tangerines--two of Michele's Satsumas for a lovely bright orange colorAdded Flavoring ideas:--half a vanilla bean to orange or lemon
--1/2 t grated ginger to orange, satsuma, or tangerine (perfect for my "gingerbread people" molds!)
--1/4 t ground nutmeg or cinnamon - Feb 16, 13
I've been looking out the window and eavesdropping in the ICU waiting room all week. Talk of bucket lists is actually frequent here, where life is suddenly (though no doubt only momentarily) valuable. "When this is over, I'm going to..." might be the second or third most often used phrase (right after "I can't believe..." and "We're just waiting...").
Bucket Lists are all the rage these days, and if you're short of ideas you can find them posted all over Pinterest and FaceBook. 100 places to go, 25 things to do before I die, 75 experiences I need to make me happy and complete.
It's a catchy idea, but it makes me vaguely uncomfortable. It sounds awfully cocky to me. Who am I to announce that I must have this experience or see that thing before I can die content with my life?
I have come to believe that there's such a thing as a divine lesson plan and that I'm the student. A teacher at heart, I know that SOMEbody needs to keep an over-arching view of what's gotta get learned...and that the "somebody" is NOT likely to be the student, not even the brightest one in the class.
I remember letting kids choose their stations as a young-and-hopeful new teacher, only to find out at the end of the unit that some kids had stayed too long at one of the "fun" stations and many had simply found a way to look busy while skipping the hard ones entirely. They all liked to play the games and paint, and would maybe condescend to writing me a sloppy rough draft if it wasn't too hard. But the difficult tasks? Nuh-uh, no thank you.
I've been trying that with my life (and sometimes I still do), have you? I've attempted to grab the plan book and fill up all the boxes with recesses and pleasant lessons so maybe there'd be no time in the period for too much of the rigorous work.
Making a bucket list would feel like more of the same.The view out the window from here
Age and ouches have taught me this: it's best to leave the lesson planning to the Expert. I just don't believe I can out-god God any more.
While I trust that I can't outrun God either (meaning that however badly I choose, God will use the mess I make for my good and His glory), the several years' accumulation of teethmarks on my hindquarters have convinced me that setting myself up for independent study (while educational enough in the school-of-hard-knocks kind of way) has some serious drawbacks. Namely, I get myself off into the brambles where the Wild Things with the Very Sharp Teeth reside. Every single time.
Rather than staring out the window of the divine classroom, wishing I was out at recess or daydreaming about that cool classroom down the hall, instead of wheedling that I can learn all the math I'll ever need by playing card games, I'm paying closer attention to the lessons already in progress.
At what I have been already been given.
Seeing the wrecks and the rainbows, both, as gifts.
It may sound nuts to you, but I truly believe that none of this craziness I call my life--NONE of it--is an accident. God doesn't deal in Plan Bs; whatever is happening was always on His lesson plan, and that's the only plan that matters.Here's why:If I am in Christ (and I am),and Christ is in God (and He is),then any circumstance that gets to mehas done so only by going through both of Them.Picture this:There's a book.In the book is an envelope.In the envelope is a piece of paper.Can an arrow (or a fiery dart!) hit the paperwithout first getting through the bookand the envelope, both?Nope.
That's it in a nutshell, but it would be hubris to apply out loud to anyone but myself, this platitudinous truth that God's got it handled and it'll all work for the good in the end.
"Count it all joy" is a lesson we cannot teach but only learn.
I don't say it blithely. Don't think I've been living under a rock, that I've been sheltered. If I wrote it out for you, my life from early childhood on would sound like a bad made-for-TV movie script. Murder and shootout and stalking and abuse are on my life's word wall, mixed in with sweeter words like Jesus and blessing, and husband, children and joy in the later chapters.
When I say "It's All Good," I'm not spouting platitudes like the well-meaning hospital chaplain who stopped by this week, her religious-buzzword necklace so loosely strung together that if I didn't keep a weather eye on pop Christianity I might have wondered if she was quite entirely sane.
Myself, I know whereof I speak, and the words, they have some substance.
And so the only bucket list I care about is the one God's got jotted down. I want to seize this day, this situation, these people. They are all--good, bad or ugly--God's gift, to me.
If I can't learn to consistently lean in, do the extra Book work, grab onto the Teacher, and count every single lesson joy, it's not going to matter if I ever make it to Greece, or not.Seize life! Eat bread with gusto,Drink wine with a robust heart.Oh yes—God takes pleasure in your pleasure!Dress festively every morning.Don’t skimp on colors and scarves.Relish life with the spouse you loveEach and every day of your precarious life.Each day is God’s gift.It’s all you get in exchangeFor the hard work of staying alive.Make the most of each one!Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily!This is your last and only chance at it,For there’s neither work to do nor thoughts to thinkIn the company of the dead, where you’re most certainly headed.Ecclesiastes 9: 7-10The Message - Jan 24, 13
Okay, so it was really chicken, and it was from down the road, but I know Who it is that really sent it.
C and I were, um, enjoying our hospital cafeteria delight in the next city over when the call came: were we going to eat at home, or not?
My sweet friend Stephanie--chief cheerleader and prayer warrior for so many and busy mom of four and ever-willing hands and feet of Jesus--popped in Tuesday with a 9" x 13" casserole of which I got not. one. bite. I never even saw any of it. You can see it here, though this photo is from the repeat, made for the whole family, made on the day I'm taking away from hospital duty to catch up a bit around here. (No surprise, it was deemed not quite as good when I made it. That little "je-ne-sais-quois" is understandably missing!)
Turns out the 16-year-old was hoping to mop up the few tidbits he'd remembered to leave for us without having to feel guilty about it.
I hear it was delicious. For one 115-pound girl and one 150-pound boy to eat every THE WHOLE THING in one sitting, it must have been.
Here's the recipe that I got over the phone the next day. Steph's sister had pinned it and shared it with her. It's more directions than a recipe, but don't let that stop you. It will take you only slightly longer to make it than it will for you to watch the slide show.The animation is almost as short as the recipe! Steph's One-Dish Chicken Casserole- Place bite-sized pieces of boneless, skinless chicken pieces in the middle of a 9" x 13" casserole. I used six thighs, but Steph used breasts. You choose.
- Open a can of green beans and pour on one side of the chicken.
- Slice a few sliced red potatoes and put them on the other side. I used six potatoes.
- Sprinkle a packet of dry Italian Seasoning mix evenly over everything.
- Drizzle a 1/2 stick of butter over all. (I didn't take time to melt the butter, so I dotted the top with slices. It seemed to work.)
- Bake at 350 degrees for one hour.
I highly suggest Steph's seventh step: share it with someone.We've had a tough few years, a difficult few days, but so many folks have texted, called, Face-Booked and otherwise reached out to us that how can we do anything but rest in the evidences of God's care for us? We are hurting but not frantic. God is in control, and he is faithful to fulfill His promises toward us.
And I look at it this way:What is a timely chicken casserolebut Psalms 68:6served up in a Pyrex dish?
THIS is why food is ministry. It is more than calories that showed up at my door. (The kids were getting plenty of those in paper wrappers.) The food? It's just the messenger.
Steph? This is for you:"Every time I think of you--and I think of you often!--I thank God for your life of free and open access to God given by Jesus.
There's no end to what has happened in you--it's beyond speech, beyond knowledge.The evidence of Christ has been clearly verified in your life!"1 Corinthians 1:4-6, The Message - Jan 14, 13
I'm not in the kitchen lately, despite about 50 pounds of citrus that really, really need my attention.
I'm doing math instead.
This kind of math: where the sum of the area of the squares on the legs equals something considerably more complex and meaningful than the area of the square on the hypotenuse; it's less homework and more art.'Pythagorean Theorum"
by Michael Paukner
Used by permission
Our foreseeable days--if we are lucky--will be camped in a special ICU waiting room, waiting to see whether my brother-in-law will live or die, whether this clear-blue-sky encounter with some something that has stopped his heart will be it and all there is.
We're in that room closest to the big automatic doors, out of the general population, quiet and private. Just in case.
It makes me remember what I've been meaning to write: this is why life needs wide margins.
The story goes that a contemporary of Descartes named Pierre de Fermat, the founder of modern number theory, once found a staggering solution to something or other to do with the Pythagorean theorum. It being the 17th century, he scribbled:"Hanc marginis exiguitas non caperet."[I have discovered a truly marvelous demonstration of this proposition that] this margin is too narrow to contain."
What a waste: to have something worth writing down, but no room left over for the words. (It was another 300 years before anybody with both enough brains and paper managed.) What in history might have been altered if only the VERY IMPORTANT WORDS of the book in which he was writing hadn't been jammed right up against the blooming edges of the page? Was it all sooo important that no room could be left for one possibility more? I doubt it.
Not in so many words, but that's what our last 36 hours have been about. One way or another, we're coming to terms with (or fighting against) this:There isn't enough margin in our lives.
Assumptions, tangled remembrances and strangleholds of bitterness, are all scribbled fine and tight, right up to the edge, and even the whitespace in between the lines is colored in with obligations, excuses, even lies.
But let tragedy start dropping saltwater on the ink and the letters as they fade all seem to spell just this one word, endlessly repeated: regret.
Not able to go back and do better this time, I look forward, making mental notes and promises.
I want to- remember there are variables--angles and numbers I do not know--before I think I've got someone all tallied up and figured out.
- allow generous margins to see people, make time to spend time with them, and reach beyond what I think I know into what is really there.
- leave more time in my schedule to do that good at every opportunity thing. "Some other time" must never apply to people.
- add some neutral ground around my feelings so that no matter what the nugget in the middle is, there's plenty of room for grace to grow it into something different, something more.
- reach beyond what I think is true and ask some tough questions as I'm led to (even if it makes everybody uncomfortable), because frankly, now I know there are worse things than the worm-in-hot-ashes interview, like the never-getting-to-know.
- add whitespace around what I think I know about the people I think I know, about their value and their motives, about their pain. I want room to discover. I don't want to keep knowing only what I already think I know.
- leave the widest margins of all, bigger opportunities, for those I deeply love. There's no such thing as too many memories, too much time.
It's after midnight, and if we get tomorrow, it is to be a bellweather day, a day on which all the others we're told will turn, and though the need to think by touch on a keyboard was strong, so is knowing this:There's no such thing as too many minutes spent cuddled up in the dark against my husband,thanking God for his warmth and beating heart.Goodnight.(Go hug somebody you can't imagine missing from your life.
Make the grapefruits and oranges wait.) - Jan 04, 13Have you heard about the "Good Riddance" ceremony for New Year's? Apparently folks reflect on the passing year and write down events that they're glad are over and done with, then they symbolically shred (or sledgehammer!) the list.
I can imagine what's scribbled on those slips of paper, can't you? The hurts, inconveniences, and difficulties that are just naturally part of life. That bad decision, this unfortunate choice, that uncomfortable happenstance.
The emotions attached to the little ceremony are probably about equal measures of bitterness and ruefulness, regret and bravado. It's half warning and half plea to "bad luck:" stay in the old year and leave the new year (and me!) alone. I'm sure it's cathartic.
I won't be writing anything on paper to shred. Not this year. It would feel wasteful, like throwing away a really meaty ham bone instead of making stock from it. I don't want to squander the chance to make something deeply nourishing from the bones of this year, of the last few. There's sustenance in there, I just know it.
It's not that I don't have regrets that I could list out in detail, so many things I wish I hadn't done or wish I had. Certainly there are circumstances I'd be glad to see the back side of, too. Sitting here enjoying the last few moments of this year's Christmas tree glow, though, mostly I find I'm just grateful.
We didn't have yearlong rainbows and roses. In fact, it may have been our hardest year yet.
First let me assure you: I'll understand if you think mine sound like "first world" problems. My husband is gainfully employed and is well-respected in his field, and I have the privilege of being the anchor at home. I economize at (nearly) every opportunity not because I'm worried there won't be enough money for the rent but just because I want to respect the effort required to earn the money by spending it thoughtfully. Our kids are healthy and we're not doing too bad ourselves. We just had a memorable visit to France (right in the middle of this ragged year), in fact, en famille. We have wonderful friends and a great church family. No matter what comes flying over the horizon to splatter itself on our windshield, we do have a windshield. Trust me, we know it.
Still, 2012 was just...different. There were the usual number of bugs (and a smallish bird or two) spattered on the windshield, but there was more, too. Something sharper, wounding deeper.July 1993
JamaicaJuly 2012
Champs Elysees
For much of the year, it wasn't us against the world. It was us--worn out and hurting--against each other.And it was rough.Call it engine trouble, us trying to power our life together with our own "good flesh," contrary to what we KNOW: God alone.It might help to first know the backstory, that we've had a run of us-against-the-world years, starting about the time of Chet's dramatic diabetes diagnosis, which steamrolled into his mom's death, his adult son's estrangement and a too-long stint at a well-paying but unbelievably grueling job. Stirred in and mixed well was the menacing re-appearance a couple of years ago of the unbalanced would-be suitor who dogged my grad school years, a particularly heart-rending episode of my tormented sibling's lifelong struggles, a discouraging hormone replacement struggle, and the frustrating "diagnosis of exclusion" process that typifies fibromyalgia. And, of course, there's the issue of two strong-willed teens and two strong-willed parents in one house.
Among other ingredients, of course. Those were just what I consider big things, not the daily grinds. The off-grid weeks brought by four hurricanes, the two major surgeries and one minor, the root canals, the totaled truck? They don't even make the top 30. Since Thanksgiving 2007, we've had five years of one big thing after another.
All together, though, it's made for quite a batter, one that's battered us all.
Us against the world, until it just...wasn't. Not quite what we had in mind on December 31, 2012.
But God is faithful, and while I don't doubt the Enemy is still hoping for some uglier outcome, so far, it's so good. There have been so many sweet blessings squeezed out of what could have been a pretty sour year.
Maybe the best way--the only way--to start the new year off right is by giving God the glory for lessons of the old.
I remember better when I write, so consider this list some of my homework, not preaching. Just me, pondering and praising:- I'm thankful for the truth "In Christ Alone," especially the Alison Krauss version of it. I'm a slow learner, and having a new heartsong helps. I hum it. I sing it. I mean every morning when I open my eyes to live it. My husband, my kids, my accomplishments are not--cannot be--my security. To place on any person that responsibility is to doom the person to failure and myself to disappointment. Daring to ground my significance in my "skills?" Just plain hubris. Getting my heart straight--a work-in-process for sure--is my biggest challenge.
- I'm grateful for this man who keeps being okay with being married to the kid in the dunce cap, keeps reaching out to me, keeps trying. While we work pretty well together as a parenting and home-making team, we'd let the relationship part drift off. I am sooo grateful he hasn't just given in to the "easy thing," and I'm positively giddy when I see actual joy peeping around the corner! There are still rough days (yesterday, me losing sight of #1!), but every time I see his blue eyes flash affection, I'm hopeful, not to mention thrilled.
- I'm beholden to the friends who opened their hearts and histories to us in encouragement. For too long, we both bought and sold the lie that we were doing fine despite the bugged-up windscreen, despite feeling like we were smooshed across the cosmic plane ourselves. Early last year, when we hit a point where the we first had to recognize and admit it to others that it was a facade that we simply couldn't maintain any more, nearly everyone we shared with reached for us, enfolded us, set to work wiping the Enemy's lie out of our eyes. (He does so want us to believe that our marriage is a sham, that there was very little left worth saving, that the grass is so much greener over there!) When we cried "uncle," asking for help, pleading for prayers--praise God!--we got BOTH, and more, immediately and by the bucketful and from many directions. Coming clean first to ourselves and then to that handful of intimates was tough, but I think it might have been essential. Going from someone telling us not so long ago, "I wish we had the kind of relationship you two do" to admitting we were struggling mightily? Brutal. The potential for improving intimacy and blossoming authenticity between us and others too? Priceless.
- I'm thankful for the slow-dawning realization that pain is not to be resisted but leaned into. Past years taught me that I have to do more than tolerate trouble. This year taught me that there's a big difference between accepting difficulty and receiving it. Here's what I think that difference is: Cutting away the neatly sliced parts from around the bone and throwing the bone and all the meat left attached to it in the trash? Tolerating. Putting the hambone in the freezer, recognizing some good might come from it at some point? Saying with a sigh, "I'm sure God's gonna do something with all that, someday." That's accepting. But. Knowing there's sustenance to be found and going after it--chopping vegetables, crushing herbs, boiling the whole thing for hours and then keeping the heat up to reduce out the extra liquid to concentrate the strength and then--and here's the lesson that's changed everything for me--actually unclenching enough to offer thanks for the chopping and the boiling right in the middle of the owie bits? THAT is receiving. (Why do I want to receive instead of tolerate or accept?) I still clench, but I'm trying to remember peel those fingers back so I'm holding out an open, receiving palm.
- Most important, I'm grateful and humbled God pursues us, together and separately. We are privileged to get private tutorials with the One-and-Only on the topic of that very one-and-onlyness. Not punished, not banished. Instructed. Because He loves us. The hard years and these difficult times aren't because He's mad at us, but because He actually delights in us (wild, huh?) and because He wants us to live at our best. There's only one Source of Life and--newsflash!--His name's not Chet! Unless we live this out in our marriage, we're two ticks with no dog, each scrabbling for the best tooth-hold on the other, but both still going to bed hungry.
(Too bad many of the spots are likely labeled "reteach," most of them with my name.Don't you hate being the slowest student in the class? I do.)As we head into 2013, I still believe we have all the promise and potential we had back on Day 2, when I snapped this image of my bouquet the morning after our wedding. Maybe, after all this, we have even more. I hope so.
I don't know the precise lessons the new year will bring, I think I already know God's will, His main objective for it all.
Surprised? Think it sounds pretty brazen? I'll share:Bonne année et bonne santé, everybody. - Mar 31, 13
A kitchen message is what I call the meals or treats I share with other families. The gift of a dinner in disposable containers is a tangible, edible message from my kitchen and our home, saying "Hang in there," or "We love you," or "Praying for you," or "We're here for you."
Death. Birth. Surgery. Crazy season of life. Heartbreak of any sort. They're all excuses to take food to someone I love to ease their day (and maybe, sometimes, their budget).
I will never forget Mrs. Patty--the mother of a good friend--who showed up the afternoon after my mother-in-law's, death during that "suspended animation" that comes between the death and the funeral. (It was all I could do to deal with the phone, the clothes, and the crazy south-Louisiana snowstorm. Food wasn't even on my radar.)
In her hands was a battered stock pot full of homemade gumbo and a rice cooker full of hot rice. With a hug and a murmured promise to check in on us soon, she was gone in a flash. It was a simple meal, but it was Chet's kind of comfort food growing up, and it was perfect.
Gumbo's not a quick dish to prepare, and so I knew that almost as soon as she heard, Mrs. Patty had started sauteeing the "trinity" (onion, bell pepper, celery) and boiling that chicken, no doubt praying for us all the while. Three years on, my heart still swells with the warmth of the gesture. And my husband, who had previously been rather baffled as to why I went to "so much trouble" to take food to people when they could just grab something from McDonald's, suddenly understood that the food is just the messenger.
The folks I take food to aren't always personal friends I know well. I'm on the meals ministry of our pretty large church (500 people attending two services), so that means sometimes I'm knocking on a strange door, handing food off to someone I may have only seen in passing (if at all). In those cases, I always hope to make a new friend, but even if I never see them again, I pray that they'll feel Jesus' love for them in the meal, that they'll know that His hands reached out to them in a stressful time, through me.
I feel privileged to be His hands, and if I could leave the meals anonymously to emphasize to the recipients just Who it is reaching out to them, I would. (But you know, it isn't wise to eat food left on your doorstep.)
If you're feeling called to send kitchen messages of your own, maybe some of what I've learned will help you on your way.
Meals as Ministry
Six (or seven) questions to ask before taking a meal
Tried and True
Special Needs
Making it special
Lagniappe
Free printables - Feb 16, 13Some meals are easier to whip up and tote across town than others. Long before I volunteered to help facilitate our church Meals Ministry, I was on the lookout for enjoyable but easy ways to bless others with food.
Portability is a must, and affordability helps a lot. Variety is big too, though. After receiving the fifth lasagna or third roast, even the most grateful recipient will be happy for something to break up the monotony!These are my go-to dishes because they're- easily doubled (for large families or to feed my crew with enough to share)
- travel well
- are unusual enough for adults but suitably familiar for families with finicky children
- taste luxurious but are also
- reasonably priced, especially if you watch for sales on the meat
Ham Pasta in Bechemel Sauce A kind of dressy mac-n-cheese, it's comfort food for both grown-ups and kids. Add a handful of frozen spinach or green peas for an all-in-one dish. Serve with: a green salad and maybe some cooked apples (or purchased applesauce).Chicken-Bacon Alfredo A creamy, smoky bacon and grilled chicken dish that does need a little marinating, but why not marinate a double batch this week? Serve one to your family, then freeze the other half to share at a moment's notice when you need it. Serve with: green beans, edamame or a green salad and some crispy bread. Some cookies or a really ugly fudge cake would be nice, too.
Busy Day Strata For a family in need of a little comfort food, this savory bread pudding is good not only as the main offering but also as a little "something extra" tucked in the bag for breakfast or lunch the next day.
Serve with: to turn this stand-alone breakfast into supper, add a green salad or a cup of soup..For more on blessing others with the gift of food, visit
Meals as Ministry
Kitchen Messages
Food is the Messenger - Jan 24, 13
There's a reason so many of Jesus' miracles involve food. Food seems to minister in a way that a card or a bouquet of flowers just can't.
You don't have to belong to a meals ministry to bless somebody. Though I've been ministered to by our church meals team several times for the usual reasons (death in the family, surgery, illness), I've also been blessed by individual friends, "just because." Once, when I was up to my neck with prepping the youth charity bazaar, a friend showed up with her crafting supplies to a work session...carrying a simple supper for my crew. I had to compose myself before we could craft!
You don't have to get all fancy. A casserole, a tray of sandwich fixin's, a pitcher of soup is wonderful. Gourmet food is fine if that's all you have, but simple comfort food is almost always best. (How a friend's 9 x 13 casserole blessed me during our recent crisis.) Remember this: your purpose is to bless, not to impress.
The need doesn't have to be large for the blessing to be huge. Look around. I'm guessing there's someone you know who could use a pick-me-up, whether you realize it or not. It doesn't need to be an all-out catastrophe before you take somebody food. I've felt led to bring a meal to someone for no obvious reason, and have found out later that it was God's perfect timing for one reason or the other. (Once recently He even inspired the precise dish! My friend and I both had goosebumps when she told me that had been pining to herself for French Dip for two days before I called to say I was bringing some! Wow!)
Like the Nike ad says: just do it!1. To organize meals with a group, find a website to help, ensuring variety and complete schedule coverage. TakeThemAMeal.com is our go-to organizing website, set up by the team before I volunteered to help . We can share the link to the meals ministry team, the church at large, or friends of the recipient easily. It's free (though our church donates to them yearly). You just create the listing, then send the link (and password) via e-mail. Bonus: give the link to the family receiving the food so they'll know what to expect, too.2. Put yourself in their shoes. You're sick/sad/otherwise hurting or harried. Someone shows up at your door, ostensibly to "bless" you. Imagine how uplifting it is to open to door to…· enough to feed your crew without a lot of extra work. An all-in-one casserole or entree, something green (grocery-store salad?), maybe even dessert. If you're really lucky, she also has a few muffins for breakfast or a quart of soup for lunch tomorrow, too. A card or flower plucked from the yard would be just so much gravy, but it's not missed if it's not there, either.· a cheerful giver. It's so sweet to see a smiling, unrushed person bearing food! She doesn't make you feel like you're a burden even if she's late to soccer practice! Her demeanor assures you it's her pleasure to serve you as she asks a question or two about your well-being without demanding too many specifics, sincerely offers to do any small chore, then promises prayers and to check back with you on her way out the door. She leaves quickly, leaving you feeling very, very loved on. In fact, you feel ministered to.Mission accomplished.For more on blessing others with the gift of food, visit
Shareable Meals
Kitchen Messages
Food is the Messenger - Jan 24, 13
Usually a slice of fresh bread and a salad (or some simple vegetables) work just fine for us, but sometimes dinner calls for a little something different.
BreadsAppetizers - Jan 24, 13Whether to share at home or with another family, these are some of our favorites.ChickenChicken and Bacon Alfredo
Chicken tenders, alfredo sauce (purchased or homemade) and a bit of bacon thrown in for good measure. It reheats well, too.
"What-We-Got-Casserole"
Rotisserie chicken, jar spaghetti sauce, and whatever pasta you have on hand make a quick meal. Red pepper flakes add that "something extra."
Chicken Enchilada Stuffing
Based on a rotisserie chicken, this goes great in tortillas, taco shells, or over rice. Freezes well, too.Ham, Bacon, Sausage
Ham-Spinach Pasta in Bechamel Sauce
Creamy white cheese sauce with a touch of red pepper for interest, speckled with ham and spinach.
Busy-Day Strata
Made from any bread (even croutons!), cheese, herbs, and breakfast meat you have on hand, it's a surprising casserole that is as good for breakfast as for lunch. - Feb 16, 13In the deep south, it's citrus time.Lots-and-lots-of-citrus time."Folks bringing laundry baskets of fruit to church and passing it out in the lobby" time.Never one to pass up a good scent or a chance to experiment, I've gratefully accepted gifts of lemons, oranges, satsumas, grapefruit, and tangerines.With a few of my favorite people I made hand scrub.(We followed this recipe, each adding the combination of citrus zest of choice.)With an Avery label and some raffia, it's a sweet gift, I think.My mom loves orange and chocolate, so I candied some peels to dip later.(A second attempt is underway, leaving more pith, to make pannetone.)On a whim I tried sea glass candy from the syrup left over after draining the candied peels and a little zest. There was an interesting caramel overtone I'll be playing with some more.The experiment that's received the most interest, though, has been the limoncello.Bonus: According to Giada, you still have time to make a batch to pass around on Christmas Eve, as of today (8 days).
I didn't use her recipe, but you can if you need a quick gift. If you have more patience, try mine, cobbled together from several sources and my own willingness to try whatever strikes me (even if I have no idea what I'm doing). It worked out okay, I think. I've stockpiled recipes to try, too.
Step 1: Infuse your spirits12 lemons750 ml bottle vodka- Scrub the lemons and slice the ends off. Cut 1/4" wide strips through the peel lengthwise and peel to remove from fruit.
- With a very sharp knife, cut away every bit of the pith from each slice.
- Place the peels in a half-gallon jar and add the vodka. Allow to steep 45 days in a cool, dark place. Shake it whenever you think of it.
- Decide when to strain out your lemon peels. I've read that the peels should be almost white, and I've also seen several recipes say the peels should be almost crispy. We just let it sit until liked the color and taste (and until I had the time), and then proceeded. You decide.
Step 2: Blend your liqueur4 cups water5 cups sugar- Make a simple syrup with the water and sugar by bringing it to a boil on medium heat. Cook until it's...syrupy...about 6-7 minutes. Remove from heat and cool completely.
- Stir half of the syrup into the spirits. Taste as you go, and add more syrup as needed to suit. Stir to combine.
- Funnel into bottles. Add a thin strip of citrus peel to each bottle if you'd like, for decoration. Seal tightly, then store in freezer and serve cold.
- Jan 21, 13
How did your mama share at Christmas?
Mine used to make and deliver fresh bread to our neighbors early on Christmas morning. Back in the days before bread machines and long before dough hooks showed up on home mixers, this required a very early morning and some serious elbow grease, but I can't imagine a better gift, myself. To have a toasty loaf of her pull-apart bread delivered in time to relish with a second cup of coffee while watching the kiddos play with their new toys? Christmas bliss.
Not that she limited herself to bread, of course. Like me, her creativity's playground was the kitchen. Maple, chocolate or peanut butter fudge nestled on wax-paper circles inside huge tins. Alongside there'd be some noodlestacks and stained-glass cookies and whatever new thing she'd found to try. Like me, she was always on the lookout for the next recipe. (These days, at nearly 80, she's baking fruit bread in jars, etching plates for her Sunday school class, and itching to make --and share--vanilla extract.) As always, the best new recipes showed up as gifts at Christmas.
And, I guess it stuck. We saw our moms do it and the compulsion drizzled down over our generation, because food gifts are still pretty normal down here in the South. With an eye to waist-lines and budgets, the honking 12-inch tins have shrunk considerably and the contents have changed from hand-made delicacies to slice-and-bake cookies, but the thought remains the same.We want to share,to bless others from what we have,to take a minute at the end of the yearand name our blessingsthen tell them that we're glad for them.
I can't remember all the goodies I've sent around the neighborhood or shared at church, but I don't think any have received as much pre-Christmas interest as this year's offering, when I decided to branch out into homemade liqueur. The lemon-limecello was a failure (alcoholic Sprite, anyone?) and the limoncello is still in progress even though I started it at the end of September. But the dark rum coffee liqueur?A terrible late-night picture because that's
when we were doing--er--quality control.
Oh, yes.
It's about as easy to make but a bit more memorable than those sugar cookies from a roll. And it's a versatile gift, too, since it will be wonderful as a flavor shot in coffee or more rum, just topped with a dollop of heavy cream, over ice cream, or as a flavoring in cooking (see a few ideas here), too.
The labels (which I'll share tomorrow after my birthday brunch at Brennans!) has a QR code that'll take the recipient to the list of recipes.
The ever-amazing homebrewunderground.com is the source for the basic recipe I used as a springboard, but it's a tad technical if you're just looking to make a gift. If you run into a question or want to know the science behind the recipes, put your waders on and follow their link. These folks? They are serious brewers, and I recommend their site if you want to be one, too. If you just want to make some gifts, you're good right here.
In about an hour total time (spread out across a few days) this rich coffee liqueur can be ready to bottle, and it will only get better with time.
Oh, and do yourself a favor and order or find some bottles now, as you start the process, so you won't be handing out presents or samples in jelly jars like we are. (I feel a little like I'm hawking "The Recipe" on The Waltons!) Just yesterday Chet choose some 15-ounce bottles from here, but there are plenty of sources online. Like these beauties:The bottle in my picture at the top is from the sweet olive oil we used up at our Pinterest Party last week while making something like 40 gift jars of citrus hand scrub. It's pretty, but I have more gifts to give than empty bottles. If you're looking at making these for Mardi Gras or something, you can start saving now.Here's how easy it is.(You can do Days 2-4 all at once if you'd rather.)DAY 1:Infuse your spirits(10 minutes)DAY 2:Make caramel syrup(20 minutes)This is a double batch and it's the color you're going for.
The bowl in the background is caramel syrup mixed with
standard sugar syrup.DAY 3:Make standard bartender's syrup(20 minutes)DAY 4:Strain and blend your liqueur(15 minutes)
This will fill eight 15-ounce bottles with a little left over for your quality control efforts. That a little more than 8 minutes spent per person for a memorable gift. Not bad.
Click on the "Get the Recipe" link to get a printable Google document with step-by-step instructions. (If that doesn't work, let me know!) Start today and in a few days, you'll have about 128 ounces of dark and rich Christmas cheer to share! - Feb 01, 13
...so little liqueur.
Wondering what can you do with those little gift bottles of homemade liqueur? Your bottle will no doubt run dry before you've taste-tested all of these.Rum Coffee Liqueur(Recipe here.)You can drink it...- One ounce liqueur in two ounces of dark rum, over ice if you like (Chet's favorite.)
- One ounce liquer poured into two ounces of whipping cream. (My choice.)
- As a substitute for coffee in Affogato
- In a cocktail. Find 85 recipes here, and a bunch more.
- In Mexican coffee
- In Emeril's coffee
You can eat it...- Newman's Own Steak
- Baked Beans
- Coffee Brownies with Brown-butter Icing or maybe Whipped Cream
- Flourless Cake
- Gingerbread Date Nut Bread
- Tiramisu
- Sweet Potatoes or Carrots
- Candied pecans
- BBQ sauce
- Truffle Triangles
- Pumpkin Pie
LimoncelloYou can drink your limoncello...- Straight from the freezer in a bicchierino (little glass), as an after-dinner digestif; a tiny but powerful exclamation point at the end of the meal.
- In a cocktail:
- Raspberry Limoncello Cocktail
- Citrus Blush Cocktail so the other citrus fruits don't feel left out
- In a mojito that HAS to have a serious kick, so beware!
- Darby Dream cocktail mixed with gin and thyme
- Add a shot to a glass of ginger ale for a fizzy, boozy carbonated drink.
- Substitute it for the triple sec in your favorite margarita recipe.
- Mix limoncello 2:1 with sparkling water, the juice of a lemon, and some acai berry juice, over ice.
- Tequila-Limoncello Limonada
- Lemon Frappé (but remember, frappé means "struck," as Danny DeVito famously found out.)
And you can eat it, too.- Limoncello chicken with rice and zucchini
- Chicken Scaloppine with limoncello sauce
- Limon-y Chicken
- In place of white wine in this cream sauce for pasta
- Limoncello gelatin
- Sorbet
- Lemon cake
- Pound Cake
- Curd-filled Buttercream-iced Limoncello Cupcakes
- Cream Cheese Pound Cake
- Limoncello Plum Tart
- Add a tablespoon to scent your buttercream icing.
- Zabaglione (which I only recently learned to pronounce correctly: sabayon)
- Giada's Limoncello cheesecake
- Rachel Ray's Dessert (ice cream, sorbet, wafer cookies)
- Limoncello Gelee
- Limoncello Mascarpone Cream (on top of fresh fruit? Oooh, yes!)
- Lemon Cupcakes with Limoncello Cream Cheese Frosting
- Pie
- Limoncello pound cakes, recipe courtesy of my friend Gloria, who shared the recipe by way of thanks for the limoncello I shared with her by way of thanks for her gift of several lovely oranges from her trees!
ArancelloArancello is Limoncello's orange-based cousin.While many of the recipes above would workwith as well with orange as with lemon, try these, too.
You can drink your arancello...
Orange-Cranberry Sparkler
In one of these three lovely cocktails
Spiced Arancello
And you can eat it, too.
Arancello Crockpot Chicken
Roasted Pepper Turkey
Chocolate Orange Souffle
Snow Peas
Rice Pudding
Angel Food Cake with Berries and Orange Sauce
Fresh Cranberry Sauce
Marinated Strawberries
Ginger Cake with Orange Glaze
Cupcakes
French Toast
Strawberry Pie with Orange GlazeSee? I warned you.You didn't get near enough liqueur.Might be time to learn to make your own!
Know of any other great uses? Please share! - Dec 08, 12From Halloween on, citrus is everywhere down here in the deep south. The deep sunny colors and flavors of neighbor-grown oranges, lemons, kumquats and satsumas are as much part of the holiday season for us as snow is up north, especially when that citrus is paired with the ruby reds of cranberries and pomegranates we grab from the produce aisle.
This is an easy recipe that takes all that and elevates it. With the addition of the wines (moscato and red), it yields a punchbowl-full of holiday cheer that'll get you through even the most grueling family get-together.On the other hand, seeing your normally uptight Aunt Maybelle doing the cupid shuffle on the coffee table could be the highlight of any family holiday gathering in history, so maybe not. You decide.It's as good hot as it is cold, too. And if you have tee-totalers and kids drinking, it's as good without the wine as with it. (Well, okay, maybe not as good, but almost!)It is, however, a light-tasting punch that will sneak up on you, so a warning might be in order for any lightweights who imbibe. - Dec 22, 12Looking for an easy-to-ship food gift to share? Here you go!
My mom had some foot surgery recently. With her many activities on hold and her foot hurting a lot, she sounded pretty low when I called her from three states over and two states down. When I told her about the hot-chocolate-on-a-stick I'd made for our little cook-off, I heard a tiny spark of interest, so I got right to work and made another batch to cheer her up.
In raspberry.
Did I mention that Mama loves all things raspberry? Well, she does. Who can blame her?
I didn't do any research first or I might not have tried it...who ever heard of dried raspberry powder?! I just took Alton Brown's recipe and unceremoniously added in 1/2 cup raspberry reduction. It might have been blind luck, but it worked just fine.
Here's how:- 12-ounce bag frozen raspberries
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- Pour the whole bag of frozen raspberries into a small pot and cook over medium heat. Stir often.
- Allow it to cook until reduced about half, then taste the thickened berries. If it's too-too tart (That's how we in the bayou say extremely tart, cher!), add the sugar, stir, and taste. Keep adjusting until you like the result.
- Strain out the seeds. (Just so you know, I used a strainer at first, then resorted to a triple layer of cheesecloth. As fond of raspberries as Mama is, she despises their seeds. Depending on who's eating yours, you may not need to do this.) Pour this hot mixture into the mixing bowl right on top of the gelatin, before streaming in the hot sugar/corn syrup.
Continue on as directed in the original recipe.Fifteen minutes later I had a hot mixer and a pan full of raspberry marshmallows.
I did make one more small change. While I was mixing the confectioner's sugar and cornstarch, our bowl of sugar-free drink mix-ins caught my eye, so added a pack of True Lemon ("cold-pressed and crystallized lemon") to the dusting mixture, to give it a little something extra. Mom and C liked it, the kids not so much.You choose.Banging them around in a strainer helps get rid of extra powder.I was up at dawn the day after pouring these, cutting and snapping photos (you can see the dawn's early light in the background in some of the shots) trying to hit the post office when it opened.In Mama's care package, I sent a few marshmallows for nibbling.And I sent some chocolate-dipped marshmallows, for fun.(This one was sacrificed to, er, quality control.)Of course, I also sent hot-chocolate-on-a-stick with raspberry marshmallows. Amazing stuff, this.Oh, my.It all traveled pretty well, packed in a Dollar Tree cake carrier. They recovered from being smooshed in one corner en route.You can't really see it, but I used Press-n-Seal plastic wrap to "seal" the edges of the carrier all the way around, to seal out air. It must have worked, because Mama says they were pillow soft when they got there.The Bible study ladies seemed to enjoy them a good deal, anyway, because I hear the recipe is in demand. (Hi, Leora!)One last thing. I wanted to try using a little cookie cutter, so I chose the most complex one I had--on the premise that if THIS one worked, anything would--and lo and behold, it worked like a charm! With a little chocolate drizzle and a ribbon, I had a treat to drop off on the way to the post office, to say thanks to the two friends who'd helped me pull off the cook-off Saturday night:Here's an all-in-one place version of this recipe and procedure for the marshmallows if you want to try it yourself. I hope you do, and I hope you share, maybe with someone far, far away.(The hot chocolate ganache blocks recipe can be found here.) - Nov 05, 12Say hello to ABNormal, the brain Eye-gor picks up in Young Frankensteinafter he scares himself into breaking the smart one.DIG IN!Yes, sure it looks awful, but it's a cranberry/cool whip/pineapple/marshmallow fluff that's anything but scary. (I used a Wal-Mart mold, but for next year, I'm getting this one. So much more detail1
The Husband has this thing about Young Frankenstein. He howls with laughter when we watch it (which is often), and an inordinate number of family inside jokes center around stupid stuff like the monster's "Mmmmmmmmmm." Twice now we've shown it outdoors for friends at our chili cook-off. The first year was simple--chili, cornbread, chips. I don't even remember if there was dessert. (But there was a grownup's camp-out sleepover with a full country breakfast after. That I do remember!)This year, with my Pinterest addiction full-blown, there were so many things to try that we had far more to eat than we should have. I got to have fun with some crafty things, too:
I scattered glow-stick eyes in the crooks of crepe myrtles (wrapped in card stock tubes instead of toilet paper rolls), but these monster-eyes are my favorites. They're 3-inch floating pool orbs bought for a birthday party in the summer, with black circles taped on, stuck into my aloe plant and succulent collection. (The button on the bottom changes the color of the lights.) Makes me giggle!
Now I've started a a "cook-off box" with notes and cauldrons and brain molds and everything else for next year so I won't have to try and remember everything come cool weather 2013. But I sure had a wonderful week, making and baking and papier mache-ing, and the 20 or so friends who joined us seemed to really enjoy the results. Since I went with an autumnal theme, many of the recipes and ideas I'll be posting this week could be tweaked for the rest of the holidays.I made two other attempts that tasted delicious (think cherry pie filling, cool whip, sweetened condensed milk) but which were SO gross looking that my normally adventurous teens couldn't choke it down. So, okay, maybe making it purple-y grey and then adding hardly stirred-in blue food coloring as veins wasn't such a great idea. Realistic, but inedible. (I often don't know when to quit, sorry.)Time for the tried-and-true, then. Nonie is C's late mom, and she was a great cook before age kept her out of the kitchen. This salad made an appearance at every family gathering as a fluff, not a brain. She taught me to make it over the phone so I could take on the duty when even this easy dish became too difficult for her. It's fast and delicious, and held in the mold beautifully with the addition of a little unflavored gelatin. Bonus: if you want to lighten the calorie count a little, use sugar-free gelatin and low-sugar whipped topping. - Nov 17, 12As soon as I heard the weather would be cooler than we expected for our chili cook-off, I ran to the computer and rummaged around in my Pinterest boards until I found a pin I'd made months ago: hot chocolate on a stick.
Why make regular hot chocolate when I can cross something off my "dying-to-do" list by making homemade marshmallows and ganache blocks?
When I read the comments at the end of that post, I was disappointed to learn that the "author" had plagiarized Alton Brown's recipe, so I'm giving credit to him, not the post I originally pinned. (C'mon, people. If you use somebody else's recipe, give attribution!)
It worked! Zero problems. Little modification. Interactive hot chocolate that doubled as a treat for my friend with a milk allergy.
I made only two modifications. First, I used my homemade cognac vanilla instead of regular extract. It's a grown-up vanilla flavor, and I might add another half teaspoon next time, to see if I can bump up the flavor bit.
The only other modification I made was in response to my first marshmallows looking too dusty. Maybe I was doing it wrong; it was was tasty, but didn't exactly look appetizing. To fix it, I dropped each freshly cut marshmallow in a large strainer, then I sprinkled the cornstarch/powdered sugar over the top and shook until all the sticky bits were was covered but most of the powder was knocked off.
For the ganache, I used this recipe. Because this was a last-minute idea, I didn't have any Baker's unsweetened chocolate to use. I rummaged around again (through the cabinets this time) and measured up twenty-two ounces of whatever I had--some Hershey's milk chocolate mini chips, some Nestle semi-sweet full-sized chips, some Giardhelli dark chocolate, and a whole bar of very dark chocolate. (I think probably I could have hidden cod liver oil in all that chocolatey goodness and nobody would have noticed.)
That's it. Lovely and easy and delicious and fun. - Oct 01, 12
Last night I had a lightbulb go off as I browsed around the web.Et voila?
Instead of trying to transplant rooted succulents into a new and tiny home, I realized: Maybe I should be viewing the cork as a cradle instead.
Fine. Take Five, then:
- A cutting from a miniature aloe plant.
- A button magnet (all I could quickly find in the mess my office has become).
- A cork from my pre-drilled stash.
- Some moss from my under-table bowl.
I'll have to keep tabs on it remotely, since within minutes of its creation, it was out the door. It seemed a perfect last-minute addition to the gift I was delivering...a great busy-mom plant and a distinctive way to help my friend keep her "meal certificates" on the fridge in plain sight:A book to read, plus a couple nights out of the kitchen so she'll have time to read it.
All that was missing was a way to keep the certificates in plain sight!(Could use you use a certificate to bless a busy friendwith a night out of the kitchen? Go here.)So that my new little green friend didn't get squished in all thehugging and such that goes on at "birthday lunches,"this birthday bag wore it as a brooch:The trick?A washer, taped inside.(Easily removable for re-gifting the bag.) - Jan 22, 13
Why, I can do THAT, I said to myself.
Heh.
Now, I am a lot of things. For instance, I am hopeful and I am ambitious (craft-wise, anyway), but I am nothing if not persistent. ("Bullheaded" is what my dear husband would say, but nevermind him, okay?)
The corks? The drilling? The supply of plants? All EASY PEASY!
Getting the little buggers to thrive in such a restrictive environment inside? Not so much.
It plain hurts my feelings to put a plant into a cork knowing it doesn't have a chance of living beyond a mere two or three weeks. I've been trying to tweak the process since spring break, going on five months now.
Between vacation, school/university starting, and a hurricane, it's a pleasure to actually begin again. Just call me Finnegan. (It's better than Bullheaded, anyway.)
If you're new to the saga of the Experiment in Process, here's a quick review
of what does NOT work:- Filling the corks with dirt alone. The little plants wither pitifully soon.
- Using Soil Moist granules (even crushed ones). Those things can plump up waaaay too much and push the plants right out.
- Leaving the corks outside while on vacation, even with friends checking on and watering them. I don't know which got them: the days with broiling sun, or the days with monsoon-like rains, but it was a bad idea all round.
I would say that the third time's the charm, but...This right here is take number four. I'm re-using the same corks (after a quick wash to get rid of sun and rain damage), then setting out hens and chicks from my big ol' planter.Here's what's new:
A while back dietpopstar suggested in a comment that I try blending inexpensive water marbles. She kindly shared that she'd found that using a blended slurry of these marbles to be less likely to "blow out," so that's what I did this time. A quick trip to Dollar Tree's floral section, a focused scrounge in the front closet for my NON-FOOD blender my mom picked up at a garage sale, and here we go again:A 5-second pulse in the $1 blender and thoseDollar-Tree beads look like a spoonful of pina colada snowcone.
Here's what I tried his time:I spooned about 1/2 teaspoon of the slurry right into the corkbefore adding about 1/2 teaspoon of soil.(On others, I mixed the soil and slurry together. I'll let you know which one works best.)Then I added a plant and the dirt that clung to it when I pulled it upand used a chopstick to GENTLY poke the dirt and roots down in.I also added moss on top on some, like this one.True confession: I keep this saucer of moss under our picnic table.That doesn't make me weird, does it?(You don't have to answer that.)The gang's all here:In short, here I go again.It's DAY ONE of the Experiment Perpetually in Progress.All over again.(Stay tuned.)
NOW, about these corks.
A half-dozen corks isn't enough to go into business, but it's enough to make back-to-school night treats for your child's teachers or Christmas gifts for your co-workers.
I have plenty (SweetPea working at a wine-and-painting studio and all that), and I'm willing to share.
The giveaway is simple and completely catch-free. If you'd like to have the corks in the picture so you can make your own little planters, all you have to do is leave me a comment, telling me what you'd do with them.
Random.org will pick the winner.
That's it. I won't sell your address or send you a Christmas card, or anything, I promise.
Wanna play? You know what to do.
Updated to Add: After an illness-inspired delay, the corks and some little lagniappe are on their way to their new homes! Congratulations to Mrs. M at Married to Events! (And to Riko. I had extra, so I sent her some, too!) :) - Aug 26, 12
"The obstacle is your reality; the sand is your peace."
Thorny obstacle. Peace surrounding it. Focus on the Peace.
Sounds very Christian to me!
"Zen" is not a term I use in any spiritual sense because I'm in an exclusive relationship with Jesus, but I just love the little "zen" sand garden SweetPea pinned a couple of weeks ago. I like to doodle (and fingerweave, embroider, and knead dough) because the repetitious mindlessness of the activity is very relaxing. With apologies to whatever zen really means, here's all I mean by it: relaxing. In this case, the word applies to both drawing in sand and making the garden.
Bonus: the end product also looks pretty darned cool on the coffee table. (Even G-man says so, and that's saying something.)
I didn't realize the pin led to a link for an etsy shop photo until today, or I might have gone there first to buy one. In the end, I wanted something bigger and well, plainer, for my living room table anyway. When SweetPea makes the longed-for move to a dorm, I have Wendi's delightful shop bookmarked. She can have a bright dish garden to liven up her space.
Until then, we can share this little sweetie, for about $12 and 10 minutes of work. (Wendi's aren't much more expensive. Though smaller, her dishes are very nice...check out her shop!)
Supplies:- One tiny cactus (a succulent would do, too)
- craft sand (Wal-mart has white. Hobby Lobby has all the fancy colors.)
- glass dish (a 12" "floating candle" dish from Wal-Mart)
- felt or cork circles (make your own or buy some)
- small square of clear plastic wrap from the kitchen
- scoop of cactus soil
- bottom of a quart take-out container from your favorite Chinese place
- "wand" of some sort
1. Transplant cactus into a wide, flat container so the roots can spread. You want it flat so it can lurk beneath the sand deeper than you'll draw.(Today I saw that Wendi seems to set the cactus into dirt and top with a thick layer of sand. Whichever you choose, you want to discourage the wand from stirring the dirt into the sand.)2. Sprinkle a little sand over the top of the soil (camoflage!) and wrap the whole thing in plastic wrap, loosely.3. Add felt circles to the bowl so you can "swoosh" the bowl around to clear a design without scratching the table you spent hours staining and finishing.Be sure to brush any excess sand off the felt before first use!4. Scoop sand around the cactus.5. Gently shake to level sand.Spray some glass cleaner on a paper towel and gentlywipe the glass to remove dust.6. Find or make a wand...and draw!About the wand...I sanded down the point on one of my "pillow stuffing tools" (the dowels that come free in bags of fiberfill)for the wand I used here.A plain old Bic stick pen wrote well on the first shot, above.As a distraction from an overcast day at the end of a stressful week (oldest started college, picking out a car, behind on housework AND writing assignments), spending a few minutes putting this together (and a little longer writing about it) was a pretty zen activity in itself.In fact, I can't stop playing with it. See?!If you make one, I'd love to see yours! - Aug 19, 12Sometimes it comes down to quality over quantity.
This was one of those times.
The divine Mrs. S from last years's Block Day Bake Off made a request at Sweetpea's graduation. She wanted caramel-pretzel-brownie cake balls for her birthday. That was today, the third day of the new school year.
However, she underwent a radical physical transformation over the summer. I don't know how much weight she's lost, but it's impressive.
So, I asked: Still want those cake balls? Far be it from me to sabotage that kind of effort.
ONE, she answered.
One?
Oookaaay. I eat more than that while making them. (Which, when taken together with the pain au chocolate I ate with alacrity the whole time we were in France, might explain why I did NOT experience dramatic weight loss this summer.)
While I have used boxed mixes and Kraft caramels to make these babies (and no one seems to mind), I figured if she was only going to have one, it needed to be a darned good one.
I think I actually achieved "darned good." This from-scratch brownie recipe, baked an extra few minutes until it was set. This caramel recipe, cut in half but otherwise exactly as written. About 40 minutes for all, start to finish, while getting supper ready. Oh, my.
Because these are such moist brownies, they're made with no icing or chocolate syrup as binder. Trust me: it's okay. You won't miss it at all. Here's how.
Start by baking your brownies and making your caramel. Let both cool completely while you prepare the center and pretzel spikes.
Once you have your pretzel bits and your caramel center ready, it's time to make your "cake" balls.Interesting note: Done this way, it's not necessary to commit to makinga huge batch of cake balls. If you need only a few for a teacher or neighborgift, this is the way to go.Now you have a stuffed brownie ball. Super easy, right?All that's left is to spike it with extra pretzel bits and dip it in chocolate.It wasn't even my birthday today, but I felt pretty special after eating one of these. Happy birthday, Mrs. S. I hope you felt special, too! - Aug 19, 12(Read Part 1 of this experiment here, and parts 2, 3 and 4.)
Oops. Again.
This phase of my little experiment didn't go too well.
The phase where I left my sweet little cork planters outside for my sweeter little neighbor girls to take care of while we were gone on vacation a month ago? Yeah, that one.
Rats.
We came home from vacation and discovered a missing kitty and this lone survivor.
Because I couldn't take them with me (international transport of plants and dirt being frowned upon and all that), I left them on the back bar of the new grill, where they'd get some sun and the girls could get to them to add water without navigating the alarm. Not the girls' fault. It rained almost every day we were gone, and it was All Just Too Much.
Obviously a bad idea for the planters. See?
Back to the drawing board then.
Sorry 'bout that. - Jan 20, 13
There is the sound of a fountain and the low murmur of daily life swirling in on the cool breeze through our open windows. Awhile ago, someone was practicing violin so beautifully that I'm the only one left awake this afternoon. So while C and Sweet Pea and G slept off a whole day's wakefulness (napping contrary to the "rules" about jetlag), I made myself at home.
I didn't make it to Monmarte, no, though I did the next day, as you can see. Instead, with my decades-rusty French, I walked myself to a market and bought bacon de fume, six brown eggs, half a loaf of dark German bread, butter, strawberry jam, milk, cheese cubes, apples and canteloupe for what I hoped would be a fortifying petit dejeuner when it became apparent that the kids were just too-too tired to make it to the patisserie 100 feet further on down our street. Here is is, all unpacked:Nope."Thank-you-very-much-for-the-food-it-smells-great-but-all-I-can-think-about-is-sleep."(Or eyerolls and moans that meant as much, anyway.)
So, fine. I had myself a nice breakfast and then got to spend the whole day doing what I like to do anywhere we go.
I read each aisle of the local market like a book, learning anything on offer about the habits and tastes of the natives and then snapping up the things that most tugged at me.Courgette with blossoms, Petite strawberries, Ligonberries (I think!),
and bread with bacon from our third "favorite" patisserie.Our fresh fish dinner in Nice, panisse bought ready-to-fry,
oven-roasted vegetables, and "paupiette de dinde."Vacation for me isn't so much about letting someone else feed me while I sip cool drinks on the beachas it is getting to step out into another world,being myself in someone else's world for a while.
The monuments, the art, and the twinkle lights as soon at it gets dark (at 11 p.m.!)? Those are all just lagnaippe. (Cajun French for "something extra.") - Aug 19, 12(Read Part 1 of this experiment here, and parts 2 and 3 here and here.)
If you're an optimist and believe the saw that failure is a success if you learn from it, then you'll agree with me; this part of the experiment was a success! (If you're a pessimist, skip to the bottom, where you'll find some regular-strength good news.)
When I started this cork planter adventure, I figured it was going to be a piece of cake. Drill a hole, add some dirt and a plant, then stick on a magnet. Well, it is that easy, and it isn't. I hate killing plants, and mine dried up pretty fast (something the original poster said might happen). So I'm determined to keep trying anything to keep the plant alive more than two weeks. This is part 4 in the "try, try again" experiment. I'm hoping to end up with a cork planter that I'd feel good about giving as a gift or even selling at a craft fair. Here's my "lab report:"
This week, at least I learned something. First, my apologies for not knowing the names of the plants involved; that's the result of using plants that were shared, not bought. I did find a nice identification site online, but it's searchable by names only, not images. (Please comment if you know what these are actually called!)
I think I've learned that the succulent I know as "sedevaria" just plain isn't well-suited for this experiment. It gets what my daddy would call "puny" pretty fast, with soil moist or without. In evidence:
Remember that bulge from the soil moist there on the left end of the Day 1 shot? It was the result of a single crystal of Soil Moist swelling to gigantic proportions when wet. Even so, and even with regular eye-dropper waterings, the poor plant has the vapors. I guess even all that moisture-trapping capacity wasn't enough to save these little babies from drying up.
Which is kind of too bad because I have GOBS of this stuff, and I've been impressed with its ability to grow without the least care. Outside. In full broiling sun. With no extra water or care of any kind. Le Sigh. Maybe it needs more light, but if my sunny kitchen isn't bright enough, it's just not a good match. Moving on, then.
Oh, and in case you're thinking that the plants dried up because they're in a synthetic cork...a "real" cork fared no better:
Though one stem did seem to grow a fair bit longer in the two weeks, the leaves on the end are definitely thinner and flatter. Since they are also taking on more of a green cast, I'm wondering if the red terra cotta pot they came from acts like the red fabric you can put under tomato plants to make the fruit's color deeper. (Anybody know?) One little plant is completely gone, probably the victim of a slammed fridge door or somebody brushing up against it while grabbing the OJ. Or maybe it just dried up, gave up, and fell away. Makes me sad.
VERDICT: real or synthetic cork, Soil Moist or none...this plant is apparently a poor match for this project.
But WAIT! There's happy news, too! (All you pessimists can tune back in now.)
This kind of plant seems to be perfectly happy at its new address.
My mom calls these "hens and chicks," and she brought about 50 of them from her back porch all the way from Tennessee just for this project. I've seen plenty at our local Lowe's, so maybe it's just as well that the common kind of plant worked best. (And they propagate like crazy, too. The ones mom brought me are "chicking" all over the place! Free plants!)
The bad news is that since I didn't have any hens and chicks on hand when I first made the planters, I can't tell you whether these would do just as well without the soil moist. I'm remedying that today by planting one in a cork with just dirt.
Here we go again!
Because I'm crazy busy trying to finish a freelance assignment AND get ready for a long vacation in the land of Far, Far Away, I put the sedevaria from the top shot back in with its friends in the motherbowl and reused this cork:
Here it is, with a nice fat, juicy "hen" inside sans Soil Moist, on day 1:
Note: It'll be a little longer before I can post an "after" shot, since we leave next week for vacation. (A couple of darling neighbor girls will be feeding our cats, shocking our pool, and now, watering my corks!) When we get back, I'll post whatever I find, so stay tuned!Read the next chapter in the saga here.
-
Posts
- Apr 20, 13
Food gifts for diabetics are tricky business. There are a LOT of bad ideas out there, so if you're in doubt, ask the recipient what would be a good choice.
Dried pineapple chips are a win-win-win. They're pretty, they're unexpected, they're delicious, and they are REALLY diabetic friendly in a reasonable serving size. The directions are here. Attach a tag with all the pertinent information so that your recipient can make a good choice!
This tag is for pineapple chips cut and dehydrated according to the directions on the other page.This tag is for pineapple rings. - Sep 06, 12Q: What do you give a friend whose most pressing need mostdays is for just a few more minutes now and again?A: Time!
In short, a certificate (or two) for a night out of the kitchen when nobody's sick and no funeral is pending and that doesn't involve food wrapped in paper!
I snagged the perfect gift bag at Wal-Mart for the book I couldn't wait to share with my friend Steph, then used a scanned image of it to make these little certificates.
You don't have to do that. Just use these. Or scribble the promise on the back of a torn envelope. It won't matter; if your friend's like mine, she'll love it!
Wondering why the "or someone else's family" addition? Because this particular friend once expressed to me that there were folks that SHE would like to offer a meal to, but because of her hectic four-kids-two-dogs-a-cat-and-a-horse life, she simply doesn't have time.
With these, I hope she feels free to ask me to do it FOR her! If you've ever taken food to someone, you know what a blessing that is for the giver. This way, she gets the giver's blessing without having to take time from her many tasks if she wants to! - Jun 16, 12It's in The Plan.
Even when my socks are blown clean off, God is NOT surprised.
And I'll confess, I've had a hard time with this. Some of the stuff in my life just hasn't made sense.
"Um, excuse me, God, but how could that have been on purpose?" I've asked more than once.
I'm fifty, and it was just a few years ago that I had my first really big take-my-breath-away "Aha!" moment. A moment when our faithful God allowed me just the slightest glimpse into a previously unfathomable situation. It was a peek "through a glass darkly" (and via yet another painful episode), but one day, while crying my heart out again on the porch swing, I realized with a start that all along His hands were all over this thing. Mind you, it's that kind of thing that makes non-believers muse, "How could a God of Love...?" And still, I saw His fingerprints.
Whoa.
And just like that, my bitterness and anger dissolved into gratitude. I still feel it.
Understand, of course, that seeing that glimmer of purpose doesn't diminish one whit how horrible that thing was. It was bad, and in some ways, it still is. But suddenly, gratitude was possible, and gratitude is freedom.
Even so...
I have my days. Or, my years. Years when it's one thing after another. Big things and small, it seems it's always something. We've had two or three of those years, back to back to back.
So, I made this sign for my kitchen, a touchstone if you will.
Not because I need to believe it, but because sometimes I need a nudge to remember that I do.
Maybe you could use the reminder yourself. It's free for your personal use, or to share. - May 18, 12
It's teacher appreciation time around here! I usually send a variety of tiny treats so there's not too much of any one thing. This year, I decided to include a small jar of my homemade salsa and some tortilla chips in the goodie bag for the high school teachers and support staff this year.
Which, of course, led me on a mental scavenger hunt for something yippy skippy to put on the card. (That's the name of my publisher's writing preferred writing style!)
And here you go. Enlarge the photo to fit an 8.5" x 11" piece of cardstock. (Or go here and print the .pdf file.)
Don't forget to write that nice note inside. Speaking from experience, the BEST gift ever is for a parent or student to name something specific they'll always remember, so do that, ya hear?!Free for personal use. - Apr 26, 12Tag for my skin soothing and super easy grapefruit-lemon hand scrub.Print, cut, fold, write a personal note inside. Sweet!Hello Sunshine Gift Card Set
Need a bunch? I did, so I'll share.
Here you go! - Aug 27, 11
(To see all the printables I've made to share, click here.)
I'm planning to leave a little treat on each teacher's desk on the way out of Monday's Open House.
I'm sharing the word art with you so you can do something with them, too. If you plan to make the same little gift, be sure to measure the bottle of liquid soap or waterless hand sanitizer and re-size the image accordingly. We have1415 (!) teachers to buy for, and as the project grew from doing the teachers we already know to include all but the JrROTC leader, I grabbed sanitizer wherever I happened to shop. Though they're all GermX, it seems they are all different sizes. Go figure.
Free for personal use, please don't sell, repost, or alter these images. - Aug 26, 11Since getting my male child to take a gift to his teachers is somewhat, erm, difficult, I have taken to slipping a little something onto the teacher's desk as I leave the classroom at open house. These are specifically for science, technology, English, and geometry, in that order.
Please...- DO use these for PERSONAL gifting only and NOT for sale,
- DON'T alter them (including my byline)
- DO give credit and link.
If you want to see MY project with more details, click here.
And boy, would you make my day if you linked or otherwise shared how you used these inserts.
