bits of me

Surrounded by ten little girls in the 3rd-5th grade church club, I tore photos from magazines, chose words and images that appealed to me for any reason at all, glued them to construction paper while they did the same.  A "getting-to-know-you" activity when we began meeting in the fall, it worked well to give us a bit of a glimpse into each other's personalities and preferences.

I had so much fun, I made another one at home.  It's surprising how a collage can capture someone's essence.

It's not terribly grown-up of me, probably, but I wish I had a collage from each of my friends, to help me see life through their eyes, just a bit.

a little more palatable

After baring my soul about the groundhog, I hasten to serve up something a little tastier for you.

Last month, my Farmer's precious aunt, having overheard my weariness, offered to watch the children for a few hours while I ran errands.  She showed up with a meal for us, and included in it were these delicious, nutritious, energy-packed snacks.  She called them "energy balls", and credited our pastor's wife with the recipe, which she shared with me, and I'll share with you.  They are a bit of a bear to mix up, requiring, perhaps, the consumption of a ball from the previous batch to energize your arm.

My mother, ever a great economizer, added to this excellent recipe the idea of simply pressing the mixture into a pan to cut into bars.  Less elegant, perhaps, but so much easier that the elegance is barely missed, especially in light of the fact that while my children love to eat them, they do not so much love to shape them into balls.

Without further ado, I give you:

Energy Bars (or Balls)
1 cup regular oats
1 cup unsweetened coconut
1/3 cup mini chocolate chips
1/2 cup flaxmeal
1 T chia seeds (sesame seeds are also good)
1/2 cup nut butter (I've been using 3/4 cup natural peanut butter)
1/3 to 1/2 cup honey (maple syrup would also be good)
1 tsp. vanilla
pinch of salt

Mix all ingredients together using either (or alternating) a smashing or cutting motion.  Chill 45 minutes and shape into balls, or skip the chilling and press mixture into an 8x8" pan.  Store in the refrigerator and save the last one to eat before mixing up the next batch!  Delicious!

groundhog, with green beans

Here it is, the recipe you've all been waiting for:  how to serve groundhog.  And now that I'm an expert (this is my second time and all), I am armed with just the information you'll need.

But let's back up a little.

It has been my Farmer's dream, ever since our pre-marriage days, to roast a groundhog.  He and a friend cherished hopes of doing one on a spit to celebrate the last day of bachelorhood before his wedding.  So it's not as if I'd never heard him talk about eating groundhog.

I just never imagined that he was serious.

But then he started farming - garden vegetables, a groundhog's favorite buffet - and Mr. Groundhog became Public Enemy No. 1 (just behind Bambi, if you must know).  Wherever there are organic vegetables, there are appreciative consumers, and the four-legged ones are at least as eager to sample the wares as the two-legged ones.  In the absence of impediments, they usually overindulge:  having neither conscience nor sense of moderation, they'll happily nibble down an entire young planting of strawberries or broccoli or unripe melons.

Enter the Hav-A-Heart trap.  Groundhogs, despite having elevated tastes in vegetables, are none too gifted in strategy, and the sight of a lone tomato in an empty wire cage arouses no suspicions.  (For that matter, an empty cage alone is sometimes lure enough.)  The problem is that, having trapped them with such a big heart, are you then going to release them for someone else to deal with?

It didn't take my Farmer long to put two and two together.  Dream of roast groundhog + groundhog nuisance to livelihood = fulfilment of the ultimate in masculine accomplishments.

And so, one day last summer, he brought me home a groundhog.*

I was not as charmed as perhaps he had hoped.  I absented myself from the butchering.  Likewise from the slow roasting and the removal of the meat from the bones.  But, when my gallant Farmer, bringer-home-of-the-bacon and provider-of-the-meat, asked me to please make supper with it .....

.... I gulped and said yes.

I don't remember which of us came up with the idea of BBQ.  I tried to pretend it was beef, and when it was all arranged on buns, cheese melting prettily on top, it really looked the part.  Except that I knew.

The children loved it!  (they had begged for bits to taste during the "removal of meat from the bones" stage)  My Farmer was pleased.  I silently awarded myself "Wife of the Year", ate my sandwich somehow, and survived.

And now I have just done it all over again, tonight.  The scary thing is .... this time I almost enjoyed it.  Shhh, don't tell anyone.  I don't think I want to be known for eating groundhog.

Then again, I might not have a choice.  As we polished off our "garden beef" BBQ tonight, my Farmer told me, with a twinkle in his eye, that he'd checked the trap again today, but it was empty.

There can only be so many groundhogs out there, right???

So, on the off chance that you are ever presented with groundhog meat, here is what I recommend you do with it, after stiffening your spine and bracing yourself to jump the necessary mental hurdles:

Sauce for Groundhog  (one hog yields about 3 cups meat)
1 cup tomato sauce
1/4 cup apricot jam
2 cloves garlic, minced
dash of cayenne
1/4 tsp. black pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
1 T Worchestershire
3/4 tsp. dry mustard
1 T brown sugar (I may omit this next time; the sauce was sweeter than I like)
1 T vinegar

Combine all ingredients in a bowl, mixing well.  Chop groundhog meat finely, and stir into the sauce.  Simmer a half hour or longer, covered or uncovered, depending on how much liquid you want in your sandwich.  Toast the insides of the buns, spoon the meat onto the bottom halves, top with muenster cheese and broil.  Add the bun tops and serve hot, with green beans on the side.

* (For non-locals, the correct grammatical construction here is:  "he brought home a groundhog for me."  Consider this your unsolicited introduction to Pennsylvania Dutch-influenced grammar.)



linking up with Ann Kroeker at:


also sharing the story on Tell Me A True Story

Peanut Butter Cheerio Squares

You know why I like these bars?  Because to me, they taste like all the goodness of childhood (that's the Cheerios, peanut butter & honey) sweetened by nostalgia (that's the chocolate topping, an adult addition).  I don't know why you'll like them, but I'm pretty sure you will, judging from the reaction they got this week at our moms' group.  Think of them as a rice krispie bar with a makeover .....

Peanut Butter Cheerio Squares


Bring to a boil and then remove from heat:
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup dark table syrup

Meanwhile, measure into a large bowl:
1 cup peanuts
6 cups Cheerios

After the honey mixture has boiled, add, stirring well:
1 1/2 cup peanut butter

Pour over the cereal and nuts, stirring until evenly moistened.  Press mixture into 9x13" pan.


Melt over low heat and spread over squares:
2 cups chocolate chips
1 cup peanut butter chips

When the chocolate has solidified, cut into squares.  This, I have found, takes a lot of hand/finger strength.  Be patient, and sample as necessary.  Don't worry if your lines aren't straight - the bars will still taste good, and your friends will appreciate the proof that you are human.  Store at room temperature.

moving forward

I like meaning.  I like understanding the "why" of what we do.  So naturally, when I married into a family that eats pork and sauerkraut on New Year's Day, I asked "why."

They didn't know.

I asked other locals who also partake.  No one knew.  Fortunately for such queries there is Google.  At last, I had my answer!!

"Pennsylvania Dutch superstition says that eating pork on New Year’s Day brings good luck because a pig roots forward to look for its food, while chickens scratch backward and cows stand still."

Unfortunately, the answer was not exactly full of the deep meaning I was craving.  We eat pork and sauerkraut for good luck?  Huh.  And we figure it will bring good luck because .... pigs root forward instead of backward.  I see.

Well, I had to take what I could get.  But maybe I can give better.  

Evidently not being authentically Pennsylvania Dutch, I grew up thinking sauerkraut was something people who had no taste buds slopped onto their hot dogs.  You might say I was not eager to add this meal to our family repertoire.

So, naturally, I doctored it. 

With Betty Crocker as my inspiration, here's what I came up with a few years ago.  Happy New Year, and happy sauerkraut-eating.  And may we all move forward this year, pigs or not!


Pork & Sauerkraut
Brown in bacon fat in heavy skillet:
2 lb pork roast (or chops)

Set pork aside in dutch oven.  In first skillet (use more fat if needed) brown:

1 lb smoked sausage or kielbasa

Add sausage to pork in dutch oven.  Now saute in the skillet:

1 large onion, sliced into quarter slices (or chopped - I slice mine so it can hide amongst the sauerkraut)

Add the onion to the meat.  Also add:

2 lb bag fresh sauerkraut (you can use canned if you don't mind sacrificing serious flavor and texture)

2 c. chicken broth

1 tart apple, cored and sliced

bay leaf

1 T brown sugar

1 capful liquid smoke

1/8 tsp. cloves

freshly ground black pepper to taste

parsley

Now let it all simmer till the pork is tender.  Make it the day before to save yourself a serving-day hassle and to enhance the flavors.  Serve with mashed potatoes and pickled beets for a true Pennsylvania Dutch meal.

Rosemary-Garlic Focaccia

I have another winner to pass along to you!  This one had Lil' Snip giving me conspiratorial giggles when I laid pinches of it on his highchair tray.  When your children think they've gotten away with something you know the food is good!

My slightly aged recipe card says "Mother Earth News" on it so I'll trust that that information is correct, and although I can't vouch for volume, issue, or page number, I can vouch for the yumminess factor.  Since I used the "wrong" cheese, and since it's the cheese that carries this, I'm also going to take credit for the yumminess factor.  (and now you know what kind of magazines I read...)

* p.s. this recipe also makes great breadsticks.  When you get to the asterisk in the recipe, just form into breadsticks about half the thickness you like, any length, and bake at 425 F till they're browned.  I brushed them with the extra infused oil.  Yum!


Rosemary-Garlic Focaccia

3 T olive oil
1 tsp. rosemary (dried)
3 large garlic cloves, quartered

Heat oil with rosemary and garlic until garlic begins to sizzle.  Set aside.


1 cup warm water
1 T dry yeast
1 T honey

Sprinkle yeast over warm water and honey in large bowl.  Add:


1 cup unbleached flour

Whisk well, cover and let set 30 minutes to rise.  Remove rosemary and garlic from oil.  Mince garlic and set aside for topping.  Add half the oil to the yeast sponge, stir, and add, stirring well:


1 1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp. salt* (see above note on making breadsticks)

Cover and let rise 45 minutes.  Oil hands with remaining oil and place dough on oiled cookie sheet.  Press into 10x12" oval.  Sprinkle with:


1/2 lb sharp Swiss cheese (I used an Emmental which, having gotten it at our local dent and bent, I'm pretty sure was well-aged)
the minced garlic
extra rosemary or oregano (my children found the extra dose of rosemary too strong, but tolerated the oregano just fine).

Let rise 30 minutes.  Bake at 400 degrees F till lightly browned (10-15 minutes).  Cut into wedges with a pizza wheel and serve!  Yum!  (we had it with beef stew)

Feta Avocado Salsa

Served this tonight with our usual black beans and rice (which, remind me sometime, I want to include in the recipe box eventually since for some reason my family swoons over black beans and rice - the girls have been known to request it for their birthday dinners).  This salsa ... words fail me.  May I just say, we don't bother with chips.  Even Lil' Snip, all of 18 months old currently, gets demanding after the first taste.  And that's with raw onions in it, folks.

[Actually, to be perfectly honest, my daughters are not the ones scarfing this up.  The Farmer, Lil' Snip, and I take sole responsibility for the salsa consumption.  But - where I've served it to other adults, the accompanying chips appear to be of secondary, or possibly tertiary, interest.]

This is one recipe I have not tinkered with.  I originally got it from my sister and consider it just one more proof of the good taste I've always known her to have.

Feta Avocado Salsa


1 cup chopped tomatoes
1-2 ripe avocado(s) chopped
1/4 cup finely diced red onion (Vidalia types work well, too)
1 clove garlic, minced
1 T chopped cilantro
1 T olive oil
1 T red wine vinegar
1 T lime juice
4 oz. crumbled feta cheese

Chop what needs to be chopped, then mix it up with the liquids - use an easy hand and kind of fold it together, though, so it doesn't turn into mush (although I can vouch for it's being tasty that way, as well).  Last of all turn the crumbled feta into the salsa, and chill that puppy as long as you can resist its siren song (but not longer than, say, overnight).  [We have noticed no ill effects resulting from immediate consumption.]

crab soup, Maryland-style

I first had this soup for lunch with a friend in a very busy and crowded restaurant (which I think is the best endorsement you can give an eatery) in Northeast, MD, en route to Chincoteague, VA for a camping weekend, if I remember correctly (good grief, that was nearly 20 years ago!!).  Our tent (and, more importantly, our sleeping bags) got soaked in a deluge and I got pulled over on suspicion of driving under the influence (at 10 in the morning and 18 years old, needless to say, the only influence I was under was excitement ... although I admit that driving with my left foot out the window may not have been the savviest move).

But that's a story for another time.  Back to the crab soup, which was so good that as soon as I got my hands on some crabmeat, I tried to recreate the experience.  Unfortunately, that wasn't until five years later, in small-town coastal Japan, but my tastebuds have a better memory than the rest of my senses, and I think I came pretty close.  Here's the recipe I'm serving tonight, with cheddar-garlic biscuits adapted from Betty Crocker's cookbook:


Maryland-style Crab Soup

1/2 lb shrimp - steam and shell, set aside
1/2 lb crabmeat (I use the real deal, in a one pound refrigerated can - the other half pound goes for crab dip, another crowd-pleaser.  Maybe I'll post that recipe another day)

4 potatoes, cubed and cooked (I add the potato water to the soup, too)
corn / carrots / green beans (optional - about 1-2 cups total, depending on how thick you want the soup)

While the potatoes (and vegetables) are cooking, use butter to saute:
onion
garlic
red bell pepper
celery (in a pinch, celery seed will do)

To the potatoes and sauteed vegetables add:
28 oz. can of diced tomatoes
2 cups each chicken broth and shrimp broth (I use the water I cooked/steamed the shrimp in, or just more chicken broth - and see here for how to make the best chicken broth you've ever eaten)
1 bay leaf
splash of Worchestershire
pinch each of clove and cayenne (more than a pinch of the hot stuff if you like it spicy)
a few grinds of black pepper

When all vegetables are tender, add the shrimp and crab.  You're just heating them through.  Don't boil them or they'll get tough (although I've done that by accident and the flavor is still fabulous).  In fact this soup is great made the day before and just heated up at mealtime to serve.  Garnish with cilantro, and prepare yourself to hear raves from your family or guests......

pretty good millet

Let's get this straight from the start:  despite what more enterprising countries (like Africa) may do with millet, in this country, it is largely purchased as birdseed.  There's a reason for that, and yes, it has to do with flavor.  Our North American palates are accustomed to SWEET and SALTY and unless you add a lot of sugar or MSG to millet, you are going to be mostly impressed with its blandness.  [Thus, the unambitious recipe name.]

That said, and keeping in mind its high nutritive value (comments about birdbrains aside), I think I have found a way to prepare millet that at least gets me some "Mmmm!"s from my family.  Anticipating a large demand for that sort of recipe (ha), I share it with you here.  Serve in place of rice.

Pretty Good Millet
3-4 cups chicken broth (you can always add more towards the end if it looks too dry)
2 T soy sauce
Heat these in a medium saucepan while you toast the millet.

1 cup millet
Toast it in a dry skillet, constantly stirring, until it starts popping and giving off a fragrance.  Pour into the heated broth.

1 onion (large if you're an onion-lover; otherwise you decide!)
some oil
Dice onion & saute in oil.  Add to the millet and broth.  Bring to a boil; simmer covered 20 minutes or till the millet has absorbed the broth and is soft.  If you don't stir it at all, and are using a heavy pan, you might get lucky and have some of it brown on the bottom.  Yum!

my very own chocolate chip cookie recipe

These are so good that it's just kindness to share the recipe.  I experimented a loooong time to get these cookies to turn out just the way I wanted them to.  [and continue to tinker with the recipe!  Just updated 10-4-2014]  I hope you like them as much as we do.

I am listing the brands that I use because it's so disappointing when I try someone else's recipe and it turns out all different.  I can only assume that if I followed the directions they gave me, then it must be a difference in ingredient brands, and I want to save you that frustration.  So - if you follow the recipe exactly and don't love the cookies, at least you won't have to wonder what you did wrong - you'll just know that you and I have a different taste in chocolate chip cookies.  Alright.  Here goes:

My Very Own Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe

1 cup natural peanut butter

1/2 cup salted butter, softened

1/2 cup peanut oil (or coconut, if it's liquid)

1 1/2 cup raw (demerara) sugar

1/2 cup raw honey

3 small eggs (or two large ones)

2 tsp. real vanilla

Mix all the above well with an electric mixer.  If you didn't let the butter soften enough (as happens sometimes in households where the cook is both spontaneous and impatient), try to smash the resulting lumps with a spoon to somewhat integrate them.  Now, stir in:

2 cups King Arthur's ("white") whole wheat flour

1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

1 tsp. Arm & Hammer baking soda

1 tsp. salt (I use the pink Himalayan now, but I'm not sure it makes any difference)

12 oz. bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips (Shurfine works, but Hershey's Special Dark is better, and Ghiradelli is best)

I usually chill the dough till I'm ready to dive in to the business of cookie-baking, but that's only because I tend to do jobs in small increments.  You can bake these right away.

Whenever you're ready, turn the oven on to 350 F.  I use AirBake pans (because that's what I was given waaaaay back at my bridal shower) and the cookies take 12-15 minutes to cook, switching pans halfway through, so if you use thin aluminum you may need to watch them for burning bottoms.  Also, if you put fewer cookies on the tray, they'll bake faster.

For the peanutiest flavor, let them cool to room temp.

Enjoy!

how to make tomato sauce (the easy way)

1) respond with an unequivocal "maybe" when your husband asks if he should bring home extra tomatoes from work to make into sauce.  add that he is welcome to make the sauce, should inspiration strike, but that your own personal interest in the project is extremely limited.

2) watch your husband carry in a large plastic tub of organic tomatoes from work that would otherwise have "gone to waste".

3) watch afore-mentioned husband wash and quarter tomatoes; offer tips as necessary.

4) prepare supper while tomatoes cook in large stockpot on the stove.  mention to husband the possibility of tomatoes scorching.

5) when supper is over and husband starts to look for the strainer gizmo, point him in the right direction, then go out to the hammock to read while he assembles it.

6) come back inside in time to watch Spice ladle the last of the cooked tomatoes into the strainer's hopper as husband tilts the strainer so that it doesn't spill onto the floor, Everything Nice pokes at the garbage end helpfully with the masher thing, and Sugar entertains Lil' Snip in the livingroom by crashing him onto the sofa with her.

7) wow the family by pouring the resulting tomato juice into two dutch ovens without spilling any of it.

8) volunteer to (wo-)man the sauce as it cooks down so that husband is free to clean up the strainer gizmo.

9) stir the sauce while reading personality books and watching husband in peripheral vision.

10) agree with husband that making sauce is a lot more involved than it appears.

11) get husband to take over stirring before your arm falls off and you expire from boredom on the pretext of making room in the refrigerator for the (hopefully single, eventually) pan of sauce.

12) thank husband for stirring, acknowledge his astute comment about the dullness inherent in the task of stirring, and set dutch ovens of sauce on trivets to cool on the table.

13) read more personality books.

14) announce that you're going to bed, then discover the two dutch ovens of sauce still cooling on the table.

15) pour sauce into a single dutch oven and place on trivet in the refrigerator.

16) wash out the other dutch oven before the ring of tomato "paste" hardens into tomato candy.

17) get ready for bed.

18) just before you get into bed, get the brilliant idea to write the whole sauce-making process down for the benefit of (wo-)mankind everywhere.

19) go to bed, windows open to admit cool post-hurricane autumnal breezes & the songs of crickets . . . .

20) make the mistake of sharing your brilliant post with husband, thereby giving him the opportunity (which he cannot pass up, due to his phlegmatic personality) to remark, "yeah, you weren't much help."

21) remind husband of step 1), add his compliments to your post and go back to bed.

[22) let husband read post to check for any inadvertent husband-bashing.  be pleased when he laughs.]

what's for supper?

To keep, or not to keep, that is the question.

I have a deep suspicion that I am the only one who reads this feature on my blog. And I am beginning to have a deep desire to deep-six it (i.e. permanently discontinue said feature).

What started out as a way to try to prevent having too many of the same old meals (and to maybe give ideas to anyone desperate enough for supper ideas to check out mine), has become, more or less, simply a public record of too many of the same old meals. Now, as much as I would love for all my mommy-blogging friends to start a what's-for-supper sidebar on their blogs (hint, hint), I am thinking the productive life of mine has ended (if ever it began).

Your vote?