Cinnamon and Coffee Cake, Or You're Gonna Wanna Eat The Entire Batch Of Icing...

So I made this cake today see, and posted this picture of it to my facebook:

I was then swarmed with messages asking for the recipe, and since I haven't posted here in a while (I apologize for that, by the way, but eating the food I make is always more satisfying than writing about it. I am sorry though.) I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and post the recipe here for all to read!

This is a coffee cake, but not in the sense that you're probably thinking. See, when I think of coffee cake, I think of a crumbly confection with a scrumptious struessel topping that you see in every [Insert big name coffee chain here] and enjoy with your latte. And that sucks, because when you think of coffee cake, you should think of this. It's...well, as I told my husband, it's the best cake I've ever made--and that's definitely saying something. I have a thing for cake.

This is a coffee cake in the sense that it is a cake flavored with strong coffee and frosted in a sinfully delicious coffee buttercream. And by sinful I mean that I found myself spooning it into my mouth. (We don't judge on this blog, right?)

So, without further delay, and so that you can all spend your evenings (or mornings or afternoons, wherever you fall on the timezone map,) spooning buttercream into your mouths. Your mouths will thank me, your hips and thighs may not, but hey, we'll suffer together.

I based the cake on this recipe, from lisa is cooking.
For the cake you'll need the following:
2 sticks butter, softened
3 cups all purpose or cake flour (I used AP)
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 TBS cinnamon
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
3 eggs, at room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups greek yogurt or sour cream at room temperature (I used yogurt because we had it on hand)
1/2 cup espresso or strongly brewed coffee or 1TBS instant espresso powder dissolved in 1/2 cup boiling water

I took a basic buttercream recipe and added espresso to it, and it worked out pretty well actually. You could also probably just add instant coffee or instant espresso powder or coffee extract in place of the espresso. Experiment and let me know!
For the buttercream:
2 sticks butter, softened
1 to 1 1/2 TBS espresso
3 to 4 cups powdered sugar

Preheat your oven to 350F.
Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt together into a bowl.
Beat the butter and granulated sugar together in a large bowl with an electric mixer on medium-high speed until light in color and texture,for about 3 minutes.
Beat in the eggs, one at a time, and then the vanilla, yogurt or sour cream, and espresso.
Reduce the mixer speed to low.
Add the flour mixture in thirds, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed, mixing until smooth.
Pour into buttered and floured bundt pan and smooth surface.
Bake for 60 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean.

While the cake is baking, prepare the buttercream.
In a medium sized mixing bowl, add the softened butter and espresso.
Slowly begin to add the powdered sugar until the desired consistency is reached.

When the cake is done, let it cool in the pan for ten minutes before gently removing it to cool completely on a cake stand.
When completely cooled, frost with buttercream.
Sprinkle with cinnamon on top if desired.

And that's that. The result was kind of surprising. I noticed while it was baking that it smelled like a spice cake instead of coffee, so I wasn't surprised when I took the first bite to find that indeed it did taste rather like a spice cake. I think the cinnamon and brown sugar added to that. The buttercream surprised me though, as it had more coffee flavor than I'd expected; but that's a pleasant surprise.

Oh, and from my personal experience, it's prudent to NOT let your toddler and his cousins, who are running around your house pretending to be a race car driver and a witch and a princess, lick the icing spoon. It is coffee after all. (Read: I am currently struggling to wrestle pajamas onto my son and he's having none of it because he's hyped up on caffeine.)

There you have it!

Until next time, (which will be MUCH sooner this time around, I promise!) kitchen comrades!
-M

Mistakes, Or Why My Violet Syrup Went To Hell

So a few weeks ago, I made a post about some amazing violet syrup that my best friend and I made.

I'd like to take a minute to share my recent findings with you all, so that you won't make the same mistake I made with this delicious treat.

About three days after my best friend went back home (boo-hoo!) I decided to see how many violets we had left in the lower yard and to try and make a bigger batch of violet syrup since I had sent some home with her. Luckily, and to my delight, there were PLENTY of flowers left, and I set to picking them in the morning, before the sun got too hot. I followed the same recipe I had last time, though the flowers were more tightly packed (which resulted in a near neon-purple color that was absolutely divine.)

As I had last time, I put the jars of syrup in the fridge and began thinking of all of the magnificent things I could do with it. (At the time I was trying to devise a way to make caramels with the violet syrup. If I ever figure out how to, you'll be the first to know!)

Well, the weeks passed and I just didn't find anything worthwhile to use the syrup for. I had some on ice cream, some in a glass of raw milk, mixed a little with a glass of red wine (which, unless you like sweet wine, really wasn't that phenomenal).

A few mornings ago, Wee One asked for pancakes for breakfast. I thought, what the heck, I'll have some violet syrup on mine! (He specified that he wanted blue pancakes, so I thought the violet syrup would work nicely with the color they ended up being.)

Lo and behold, when I got the syrup out of the fridge, something was off. I knew right away. There was...stuff in my syrup. Brownish gunky stuff. And when I opened it up, there was a smell that was entirely unpleasant. I braved a spoon-lick and immediately regretted it. My syrup had gone bad. It tasted horrible. Like rotted fruit and mold. Disgusting.

I was devastated. I had two entire jars of this ruined syrup. (I won't lie. I cried.)
What had gone wrong? What had I done? And more importantly, HOW could I stop it from happening again?

I flocked to the internet, trying to find the answer. What I found was no surprise, and made me feel like an idiot for not realizing it at the time I made the syrup.

For perfect syrup, the following steps need to be taken:

1. Boiling the liquid. The recipe I used didn't call for it, because of the delicate nature of the violet flowers, but in the future I will be doing it anyways. After straining out the flowers and before adding the sugar, bring the liquid to a boil for at least one minute. This way, we know anything icky that the syrup may have been predisposed to can be eliminated. (Note to self: strive to work the word 'eliminate' into your vernacular. It's a nice word.)
2. No eyeball measuring. Essentially, you must weigh and or measure out in exact amounts. I did not do this. I usually don't unless baking. For syrups, however, it is a necessity.
3. Same amount of sugar to liquid. No more. No less. This too was an issue, since I didn't measure exactly how much liquid there was, I didn't exactly how much sugar I needed. I eyeballed. Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea culinary culpa. The reason you need the same amount of sugar to liquid is simple: Too much sugar will prevent your syrup from properly diluting, and too little will cause the mixture to become contaminated with bacteria. (Hindsight is 20/20, yes?)
4. Acid, acid, acid. Add about a teaspoon of lemon juice (before the sugar, of course, because exact measurements tra-la-la!) and a teaspoon of citric acid (found at any brewing store or online and in some groceries) to your liquid. The acid keeps the syrup from molding, which is precisely what happened to mine.

I'm confident that with the above precautions, the next batch of floral syrup I make will be a success. And when it is, I'll definitely share it with you all.

Until the next adventure, my culinary comrades!

Wild Violet Syrup, or The Actual Nectar of the Gods

So a week ago, I was overjoyed and utterly ecstatic to pick up my best friend/ soul-twin, Evie, from Asheville and then keep her for a week. It had been a few months since I'd seen her, but as it always goes between true friends, it felt as though no time had passed at all. We sang, we danced, we drank, we laughed, and of course, we cooked. 

A few days before she arrived, I had read a blog post about making Wild Violet Syrup. I was intrigued and wanted to try it ASAP of course, but was disappointed to find that we had no violets in our yard. So, I filed the post away for future reference and sighed, my stomach craving floral goodness more and more with each passing moment.

So, with no violets and one best friend, I set out to have an amazing week. On the second day of her visit, we were doing some work outside, picking up sticks and making wreaths and such, when--to my disbelief and delight--we stumbled upon a humongous patch of beautiful dark purple Viola odorata and white and purple Viola sororia. Violets! Tons of them! All over our lower yard! I was amazed!

I sent Evie up to the house for a large mug and began gathering the magical little buds into my shirt as quickly and as diligently as possible. About half an hour later, we'd nearly cleared out the whole patch, leaving enough to re-flower and spread. We took our harvest up to the house where Wee One had awoken from his nap, and whilst Evie played choo-choo trains with him, I began the arduous task of pulling the stems off of all of the violets and making sure they were all well washed and bug-free. (Killed found seventeen ants and two spiders! Yuck!)

Once the blooms were clean, bug-free, and de-stemmed, I packed them as tightly as I could into a jam jar and covered it with water and about a tablespoon or two of vodka. Now, our task was simply to wait. The original recipe called for waiting 24-48 hours, shaking the jar once or twice a day. I am impatient (at best) though, and managed to shake the jar quite vigorously numerous times a day for the next four days. After four days of shaking and steeping, I drained the liquid (which, to my surprise and delight had turned the most beautiful shade of purple I'd ever seen!) off, making sure to press the flowers and get as much liquid out as possible.

Purple, purple, purple!

 Look at the pretty!

I measured the gorgeous purple liquid into a saucepan and added the same amount of sugar in. I then heated it very slowly and very gently, making sure to not bring it to a boil, and cut the heat as soon as the sugar was fully dissolved.

Once the heat is off, pour your syrup into a mason jar and add a tablespoon more of vodka for each cup of syrup. Pop a lid on, give it a shake, and keep it in the fridge. 

The smell of this liquid is like the essence of a million wild violets that have been sprinkled with honey water. It is literally the most amazing scent I've ever experienced. I adore floral flavors like lavender and rose and hibiscus, so violet was something I was excited to try. I'm still just pleased as punch that we found all of those violets, because this may just be my most favorite thing I've ever made. Later that night, Evie and I enjoyed bowls of vanilla ice cream with violet syrup poured over it.

Other ways to enjoy this fantastic syrup is to make cocktails with it (I'm considering trying a Whiskey Violet instead of a Whiskey Sour), pour it over pancakes, and soak cake layers in it for a delicious floral kick. But don't stop there! Come up with your own uses! Maybe you baste a lamb leg with it, or add a spoonful to your green tea, or make violet fudge! I urge you to get out in your backyard and look around for those delightful little purple flowers and gather up as many as possible. (If you live in a fairly rural area of course, and know that no pesticides have been used)

Until next time, Kitchen Comrades!

Guinness Stout Brownies, or The Greatest Thing I've Ever Shoved Into My Mouth

So remember a while back when I was lamenting the fact that Husband doesn't really like sweets? Fixed it.

We are a Guinness household. It's the main beer we buy. Sometimes we get Murphy's Stout (aptly named, don't you agree?) or Yuengling Black and Tan, but we're really a Guinness house. Husband loves the stuff. Would have it morning, noon, and night if he could. And I'm rather fond of it myself. Even Wee One has had some experience with the brew.

 (In which Wee One swipes Daddy's beer and pours it all over himself, with hilarious and cute results.)

 

So when I found a recipe for Guinness Stout Brownies, I had to try it. I mean, Guinness and chocolate all in one recipe? Hell yes.

Though I followed this recipe pretty closely, I always tend to diverge from the path and add my own flare to everything I make.

I didn't bother running to the grocery store for anything, since I had some left over chocolate and we always have Guinness at the house, so I basically used what we had.

Firstly, I put my stout on the stove to start reducing. (You're basically making a beer syrup, so that flavor is concentrated in the brownies.) *And although the recipe says it should just take 15 minutes, don't believe it. Mine took quite a long time to reduce, so don't worry. Patience is a virtue.*

I added all my chocolate--reserving some white chips to sprinkle over the top--into a bowl and then added the butter. Since I don't have a double broiler though, I just microwaved my chocolate. It works just as well, so long as you make sure to take the bowl out and stir every 20-30 seconds. Don't overheat it though!

While my chocolate was melting away, I started on the other ingredients, namely the cocoa and flour and eggs and sugar and such.

Above is the picture of the melted chocolate added to the egg and sugar mixture, then the flour and cocoa added as well. It'll look thick now, but just wait.

Instead of vanilla extract, since we haven't actually had any on hand since before the holidays, I used Cake Jack rum instead. I figured, what the hey. More booze never hurt. So I added it to the batter, then poured in the beer reduction.

The batter will become SUPER liquid-y at this point. Don't worry though, it's supposed to be that way. Pour your batter into your prepared pan and then sprinkle your reserved chocolate chips over the top.

Pop your pan into the oven and set your timer, then give your Husband and or your toddler a spoon to lick.

And before anyone gets onto me for giving Wee One a spoon of Guinness batter, I'm gonna go ahead and tell you to be quiet. All of the alcohol was cooked out at this point and the rum hadn't been added yet, so sit down and shut up with your "Oh my god, whatever possessed her to do that"s. My child, my house, my rules. If Wee One wants to lick a spoon, he licks a spoon. Take your preachin' somewhere else.

Now, let us carry on.

Once your brownies are done, take them out of the oven and let them cool to room temperature before cutting and enjoying. (I know, it's hard to wait, but trust me.)

This is my new favorite brownie recipe. I was disappointed that I couldn't really taste the beer right off, but they were richer and more moist than any brownies I've ever had/made. This is definitely one you need to try, whether you like Guinness or not. Like I said, it's not overwhelmingly Guinness-y. It's just plain good.

Until next time, Kitchen Comrades! I think I may be off to the grocery store to buy some chocolate chips and make another batch of these...

Banana Pudding Poke Cake, or How To Please Your Father In Law

I love sweets. We've established this, yes? My slight obsession with desserts and confections and baking and everything that comes with it? Good. It's very important.

Have we also talked about my time spent on pinterest? I love that site. And by love, I mean I can lose about five hours of time whilst perusing it.

Where is this going, you might be asking. Well, recipes and pinterest seem to go together like peas and carrots, bread and butter, green olives and ice cream. (Is that last one just me? Okay, noted.) That's basically 50% of the site, really. The other 50% consists of people who have too much time and patience with which to do their nails, workout plans that just make me want to eat more, collections of "dream wardrobes" that no one will ever make enough money to actually purchase, and crafts I'll never have time to replicate. But I'm mostly there for the food, as with any shindig.

A while back--okay, a LOOOOONG while back, there some a get together at my mother-in-law's place. I really can't even remember how long ago, but I'm pretty sure it was in between Thanksgiving and Christmas... I volunteered to bring a dessert, and I had one that I really wanted to try from Pinterest!

Have you ever heard of a poke cake? I'd seen them all over the interwebs and was intrigued.

I used this recipe, but you could just as easily make your own cake instead of using a box mix, make your own homemade pudding, and make homemade whipped cream as well. Since I needed this to be snappy though, I used boxed mixes. (Intentionally leaves out the part of the story where she tried to do a homemade cake, but she dropped the pan on the floor and fed the not-so-broken-not-so-dirty pieces to herself and Wee One...)

When you do is mix up your cake batter and bake it according to your recipe.

When it's finished baking, take the pan out of the oven and grab either a wooden spoon, a plastic spoon, or a drum stick if your husband happens to be a drummer. You don't have to wait for the cake to cool down before poking tons of holes all over it, making sure to get down to the very bottom of the pan.

After you've made all of your holes, you can begin to mix up your pudding.

You're going to want to pour the pudding over the hole-y cake as soon as it's mixed up, so that it's still pourable and not as thick as you'd want it if you were just eating pudding.

Make sure to use your spoon to really smooth the pudding over the cake, and slam the pan down on the counter a few times to get the pudding to really settle into the holes. After you've gotten all the pudding spread over the cake, you can then let it cool in the fridge for a bit. Once it's cool, grab your whipped topping and start spooning and spreading over the top.

But whatever you do, don't, I repeat DON'T use your vanilla wafer cookies to scoop the remaining whipped topping out of the container and then eat the now-whipped-topping-coated cookie. That would just be unseemly.

When you're ready to serve the cake, grab your bag of (hopefully still there) vanilla wafer cookies and crumble some over the top of the whipped topping. You want them to still be firm, not soggy, so save this step for the last minute.

Serve with a tall glass of milk and enjoy your poke cake!

Until next time, Kitchen Comrades!

Nerdy Mama Makes Bread Pudding or Screw Diamonds, Carbs And Booze Are A Girl's Best Friend!

When I married Husband, I assumed he was a normal bloke. He liked Guinness and good music and was cute, so I didn't ask a lot of questions. Little did I know though, that he's one of those strange people who doesn't like sweets. I was shocked. I was floored. Not like cookies? Not like cake? What is this madness!?!?

In the (nearly) three years we've been married I think I've probably made a grand total of 4 sweets he's actually liked. PLAIN oatmeal cookies (no raisins, no chocolate chips, no nothing!), homemade oreo cookies, plain vanilla cupcakes, and a chocolate Guinness cake with very little Bailey's cream icing. Four.

So sufficed to say, when I make sweets, it's up to me and Wee One to devour them. Tragic, I know.

Recently, I got a craving for something full of carbs and sweetness. Surprising, yes?

As any intelligent woman would, I took to Pinterest and sought out the goodness I so desperately craved. What did I find?

Bread Pudding.

Not just any bread pudding mind you, Bread Pudding with Bourbon Sauce.

I was ecstatic. Carbs, sweets, AND BOOZE? WHAT COULD BE BETTER?

I'm glad you asked actually, because it DOES get better. The recipe is based off of the infamous one from Bon Ton Cafe in New Orleans, my absolute, all-time favorite restaurant in the history of ever. I'm not kidding. If you EVER go to New Orleans, even for just a few hours on a layover, GO TO THIS PLACE!!!! I ORDER YOU!!!! They have the world's greatest crawfish etouffe. Oh my god, just thinking about it is making me salivate.

Okay, back to the business at hand: Bread Pudding.

I was ecstatic, found recipe, Bon Ton, blah, blah, blah... Right! So, I immediately set to work figuring out what I needed for the recipe, and luckily enough, we had an entire baguette in our pantry that we'd forgotten about and had gone too hard to eat without breaking your teeth. Tres bon!

Until, that is, I realized I'd never made bread pudding before. Eaten it, yes; but actually made it, not once. In our school cafeteria, they used to serve huge truncheons of it in one of the hot lines, and I am not the least bit ashamed to say that I completely skipped actual food on those days and dined solely on bread pudding. (Pretty sure I'm not the only one though...) It was delicious. Flecked with plump, warm raisins and covered in caramel sauce. Mmmm...

So I became utterly terrified that I would not be able to reproduce the Bread Pudding of my yesteryear.

But I overcame that fear, I rose above it and began to assemble my ingredients.

First obstacle: We had no bourbon. (I know, I was shocked too!) And despite his fondness for bread pudding, Husband totally nixed the idea of using a cup of whiskey to be cooked down into a "meager sauce". (Insert eye roll here.) So there went the bourbon sauce.

I rolled with it though. I grabbed a bottle of Bullit Rye Whiskey and tossed a bit in with the milk and bread that was soaking in it, replacing the vanilla extract. (Husband even agreed to letting me put raisins in it. Blew my mind.) I popped my soggy bread into the oven and realized that I needed a sauce that would be just as delicious as the recipe's, but not include bourbon. I figured a caramel sauce would suffice.

As I often do, I turned to The Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond. I had all the ingredients for her caramel sauce, so I went with it.

That's when I realized that vanilla extract is basically just vanilla beans soaked in BOOZE! (Alright, I understand that's not really what it is, as vanilla beans soaked in booze is technically a tincture, not an extract, but go with me on this one.) I grabbed the Rye Whiskey again and replaced the vanilla in this recipe with it as well; it created...THE NECTAR OF THE GODS!!!!

I kid you not people, I would have been happy drinking this stuff with a straw. I've never tasted anything so sinfully good before, and I've tasted a lot of sinful things. (Alright, you get one dirty joke, then keep reading. Made your joke? Good, now let's continue)

As happy as I was with the sauce, and as content as I would have been eating it by itself, my timer alerted me to the fact that the pudding was finished.

I pulled it out of the oven, smelled it, and purred.

There is nothing that beats the smell of bread fresh from the oven, except maybe the smell of fresh bread pudding. The cinnamon and the pinch of allspice and the raisins all mingled together along with the butter and the cream and the baguette to create an absolutely singular scent.

As we all know, bread pudding is best served warm, right out of the oven. So, I spooned some into a bowl for me, one for Husband, and one for Wee One to share as well. Then I spooned the whiskey-caramel sauce over mine and proceeded to dig in.

There are no words, my friends, to describe the serenity that a bowl of warm, boozy carbs will give you. And in fact, there don't need to be. You know why? Because this recipe is so simple that you can go and make it yourself. Right now. Go!

 Until next time, Kitchen Comrades!

Assemble! Or Wee One Turns Two

So there won't be a lot of recipes in this post, but there will be some pretty awesome pictures.

A few days after Thanksgiving, Wee One turned two! And he had an awesome Avengers birthday party. As moms are wont to, I went overboard. I got balloons and streamers and party games and masks and plates and cups and cupcake toppers and cupcake liners and tons and tons of crap we didn't need, and that Wee One probably didn't even see, but I got it. It's what moms do. Go with it.

So, this party idea all started when my mom, fondly known as Mimi to Wee One, got an Avengers cupcake kit from William Sonoma for like $3. The movie was just out, everyone was going Avenger crazy, so I figured I'd hop on the train and ride it all the way to Party City. Literally. They have things you didn't even know you wanted for an Avenger party. It was insane.

So, swag in hand, I began planning the party and the menu. I wanted cute. I wanted boyish, but cute.

This is what happened...

Menu:

Thor's Ham-mer Sanwiches

Hulk Smash Smoothies

Captain America Parfaits

Loki's Green Dip with veggies and Hawkeye's Arrows

Pepper Potts

Black Widow Cupcakes

Agent Coulson Cupcakes

and for the adults,
Tony Stark's Favorite Beverage (ie: WHISKEY!)

It was a lot of work putting it all together two days after Thanksgiving, but it was totally worth it. And it was delicious.

I found the recipe for the Ham-mer sandwiches online here, but tweaked it a little for kids' taste-buds as well as adults'. They went over AMAZINGLY. My father-in-law ate a whole tray. I kid you not. They were awesome.

For the smoothies, the night before, I tossed a bag of washed green grapes into the freezer. The day of, I got them out and threw them into the food processor along with 4 kiwi, a banana or two, two handfuls of spinach leaves, and I poured orange juice all over it. Blend it all up and you've got a green smoothie even kids will love. (Seriously, my nephew who eats nothing but pb&j's and chicken nuggest had 2 cups. Wee One had FOUR cups!)

The parfaits were super easy too. I got vanilla pudding mix and whipped it up, added the same amount of greek yogurt to it, then plopped it into clear cups and topped with frozen strawberries and blueberries. I could eat that all day every day, seriously. Y-U-M-M-Y!

For the green dip, I looked for recipes for Green Goddess dressing and realized AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FUH THAT! So, I took a shortcut since the basis of the recipe is Caesar dressing, and I used--you guess it!--Caesar dressing! I mixed 2 avocados, half a handful of fresh tarragon, half a handful of fresh parsley, a handful of fresh basil, and the juice of half a lemon into the dressing in the food processor, then dumped it into a bowl and served with sliced veggies. (Could have drank that shit straight. It was awesome.)

There wasn't anything special about the cupcakes. The Black Widow cupcakes were chocolate with peanut butter frosting and the Coulson cupcakes were pumpkin spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.

It all turned out really cute and really delicious. Let's just say I'm glad that they only have birthdays once a year though...

Let's Roast A Duck, or How We Survived Thanksgiving Without a Working Sink Or Disposal

Thanksgiving, my absolute favorite holiday of the year. Aside from the obvious reasons of glutinous over-eating and pumpkin-maple-brown-sugar-cinnamon-goodness in nearly everything from the month of October to November, it's about family. Family and food are all you have to deal with--and though that might be a LOT to deal with sometimes, it's usually worth it.

Since Thanksgiving was so long ago *looks at calender and realizes it's been over two months* I won't bore you with the little details about visits with family, sassy uncles-in-law who verbally bitch-slap your mother-in-law without her realizing it, or last minute shopping trips for that damned can of sweetened condensed milk you had to have for the pie you're supposed to make.

I will, however, be telling you about how we survived the massively kitchen-centric holiday without a working sink or food disposal.

It's a funny story really. Well, NOW it's funny. At the time, it was hardly laughable.

On the eve of Thanksgiving (is that a thing?), my mom and I were rounding up last minute groceries while The Husband and Wee One were winding down at home. It had been a long day of dodging holiday shoppers to get what we needed, and we were dog-tired. Mom and I walked in the front door and immediately something was fishy. Literally. The house reeked of rotten fish.

I said nothing at first and went about putting away the groceries. Then Husband came over and explained what had happened.

While he was trying to clean the fridge out for the abundance of new groceries that would be filling it, he had taken out a lot of old food that needed to be tossed. We have a disposal unit in the sink, and we've never had any reason not to use it. So, as usual, he turned the water on, turned the disposal on, and started getting rid of all the icky. Everything was going fine, and then...

Sardines.

There was an old tin of sardines in the fridge and they decided to clog up the disposal, back up the sink, explode nasty fish water all over the place, and stink up the entire goddamned house.

So, on top of not having a sink that we could use for cooking, straining, washing, etc., the whole house smelled of rotten fish. And let me tell you, oil burners are usually lovely; they give a warm scent and feeling throughout the house. NOT the case when you're trying to cover up fishsmell. Because then the house just smells as though some oaf, for some gods forsaken reason, mixed the two scents together. And that was even worse than the just fishsmell.

Alright, so now that I've finished reliving that horrific episode, let's get on to the good stuff. Though, while you're reading, do try to keep it in the back of your head that anything requiring water or the disposing of water for the duration of the holiday season had to be done in the guest bathroom. That's right. Bathroom sink. Bathtub. (We may or may not have even used our jacuzzi tub to try and wash dishes. Maybe...)

Our first Thanksgiving in this house was a truly singular event. Two days before, on November 23, 2010, I gave birth to Wee One; so on the day of Thanksgiving, we were let out of the hospital. We had no furniture, the TV was on the kitchen counter, and we had a newborn. Sufficed to say, I was not cooking that year. Every year since though, I have been in charge of the bird. Strange as it may be to some, yes, I am the bird lady in our house. The reason being: DUCK.

No, don't physically duck. Duck, the bird.

We've been roasting a duck for two years, with lots of practicing in between holidays. I'd say in the past two years we've probably roasted 4-5 ducks, including the holiday birds.

So, Miller, you ask, how does one roast a duck? Where does one even find a duck?

Simple my friends, simple. Sit back and I shall explain all to you.

We usually get our ducks from Whole Foods. They come fresh or frozen, from a farm called Bell & Evans. They're usually about 5-6 lbs and they come with all the organs inside that you can use to either cook up on their own (duck liver and onions! Yum!), give to your dogs, or use to make gravy (which I did this year and OMG!).

We've used the same recipe each time, well I should say "method", not "recipe" because it's one ingredient: a duck. We tweak the glaze every once in a while however, though the original glaze recipe is fantastic.

When we were first looking for a way to do our duck, I stumbled upon this recipe and we've never looked back.

The duck always produces a load of fat (which can be used for roasting potatoes, frying eggs, or anything else you can think of) and always comes out with crispy skin--and let's face it, if the duck doesn't have crispy skin, it just ain't worth it. And the duck always looks...magical.

See? Magic. Delicious, crispy, juicy, magic.

For this glaze, instead of using the recipe from the link above, I geared it a bit more towards the Thanksgiving tastes. I used:
1/4 cup honey
1/8 cup molasses
1/8 cup maple syrup
1 Tbls. orange juice
1 Tbls. apple cider
1 Tbls. apple cider vinegar
1 Tbls. soy sauce
and just a squeeze of Sriracha.

It came out great. It was amazing. We ate the whole thing. Bones and all. No, just kidding. Those went to the lucky, lucky dogs.

So, accompanying our duck, who I named Henry, (I always name the ducks. I don't know why. But I do. Always have. Always will. So sue me.) was a stuffed turkey breast.

Sausage Stuffed Turkey Breast:
One 4-5 lbs. skin-on, boneless turkey breast, pounded out pretty flat
One pound ground pork sausage
Various seasonings

So, if you want something a little less time intensive than the duck, or something that will simply pair really nicely with it, this is the thing for you.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

On a cutting board, lay out your turkey breast and cover it with plastic wrap. Using a meat-mallet (or, if you don't have one, a small saucepan), pound the crap out of that thing until it's about an inch thick all over and looks like it could hold some stuffing. Remove the plastic wrap from the turkey.

In a mixing bowl, dump your pork sausage (breakfast sausage is fine for this, because you're gonna dress it up anyway) and your various spices. We used a lot of sage, some cayenne pepper, thyme, salt, pepper, and a few cloves of finely minced garlic.

Take your sausage mixture and start plopping it down onto the turkey breast. Once it's all lined on the breast, begin to roll the breast around the mix.

Using kitchen twine, tie the stuffed breast so that it doesn't fall apart in the oven. Spread either melted butter, olive oil, or fat of your choice over the turkey skin; then place the whole precious little bundle on a baking sheet or roasting pan.

Cook 1 to 1 and 1/2 hours, or until an internal meat thermometer gives a reading of 145 degrees.

Crank the oven up to 500 degrees and continue cooking until golden brown and the internal reading is 150 degrees, about another ten minutes.

Remove from oven, let sit for about 15 minutes, cut off the twine, and slice cross-wise into about 1-inch thick pieces. It'll look a little like this:

Next on the menu was a simple gravy, and I can't remember exactly how I made it, but I'll do me damndest to recall the majority of what you need to do.

I took the various duck inards, minus the neck and gizzard, and sauteed them in a pan of butter. I took the butter and giblets and popped them in the food processor, blended them up, and let them stay there for a while.

In the same pan, I began a roux with butter and flour. I let it get slightly brown, then added some of our chicken stock (homemade of course) and the blended giblets to it. I put it all in a saucepan and heated it through, not to boiling though, and decided whether it needed a bit more liquid or a bit of seasoning.

Remove from saucepan and pour in gravy boat (or creamer...since we don't have a gravy boat...) and set aside. Heat it in the microwave for about 30 seconds before setting it on the table.

You get something that looks like this, and I wish you could taste/smell it because--though I was a skeptic and wasn't very enthusiastic about a gravy made from inards--it was amazing:

The supporting cast in our Thanksgiving meal were the usual suspects, sweet potato casserole, my mom's cornbread dressing, cranberry relish, cranberry sauce (because I will never not lot the shaped-like-the-can-it-came-in jelly and you can't make me!), and a delicious brussels sprouts dish that I shall tell you how to make!

I'm not a fan of brussels sprouts. That is, I didn't used to be a fan. Husband has since converted me and we all (including Wee One) love them. I came up with the following recipe by mixing bits and pieces of other recipes together and getting something quite singularly delicious.

You will need:
Brussels sprouts, about a pound of them
A yellow onion, chopped,
A firm, green pear, or an apple of your chosen flavor (we used Fuji), peeled and chopped
Some bacon

Saute the bacon up as you usually would, then chop it into small pieces.

Prepare your brussels sprouts (ie: wash, cut, wash again) and parboil them. Set aside.

In a saute pan with a small amount of butter or olive oil, add your chopped yellow onion and your chopped pear/apple. Cook until the onions begin to turn translucent, add the brussels sprouts and bacon back in, cover, and cook for about fifteen more minutes.

There! Finit!

We had a lovely dinner, but more importantly, I had the most amazing sandwich the next day. I wish I'd taken a picture. My gods, this thing was orgasmic, and I won't even apologize from that terminology. It was.

So, in closing, well...I got nothin' really. I'm too preocupied thinking about that damn sandwich... Here are some pictures instead of a closing comment that will close this up and inspire you.

 

Sweet potato casserole (my mom's recipe.)

Cranberry relish (mom's recipe.)

The cast.

Pumpkin pie!

What's For Dinner Tonight, or Miller Gives You Three Different Recipes To Make Up For Not Posting Anything For A Long Time

Greetings Kitchen Comrades!

Now, before you verbally berate me via the interwebs for being so damned flaky when it comes to posts, let me just go ahead and say that that is all about to change. We're back to the old blogspot, got a new design up and running, and we're ready to roll! So, without further excused and with no more ado, I give you a post!

Let’s talk turkey.

Well, not turkey. Soup.

Well, not really soup either…

Let’s talk about that good ol’ Amurican classic, condensed cream of something soup.




Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I grew up on the stuff and I loved it. It’s creamy, it’s rich, and whatever you put it in is usually also deliciously decadent. It also reeks of a certain celebrity chef…

(Paula, I’m sorry, I love ya.)

That being said, it is HORRIBLE for you. Yes, yes, grandma and mom and aunt Ruby might have put it in everything they ever made, but they were also raised in lead-based-paint-coated cribs.

This is the ingredient list for Campbell’s condensed cream of mushroom soup:
WATER, MUSHROOMS, VEGETABLE OIL (CORN AND/OR COTTONSEED AND/OR CANOLA), MODIFIED FOOD STARCH, WHEAT FLOUR, CONTAINS LESS THAN 2% OF: SALT, SOY PROTEIN CONCENTRATE, MONOSODIUM GLUTAMATE, CREAM POWDER (CREAM [MILK], SOY LECITHIN), YEAST EXTRACT, SPICE EXTRACT, DEHYDRATED GARLIC.

Remember my post about broth? Remember how we talked about monosodium glutamate? Well, lo and behold, MSG strikes again!

No matter how good recipes using cream of whatever may taste, it’s just not worth feeding all that extra crap to my family. Hmm…cream of crap…has a nice ring to it. (The ring of truth!)

So, recipe number one tonight is a replacement improvement for the classic cream of mushroom. It can be tweaked for your needs, but I’ll get into that later.

So, the cast of players are as follows for one can of cream of mushroom:

2 Tbs. butter

2 Tbs. flour

1 cup milk

About 8 oz. finely diced and sauteed mushrooms (You could also use dried mushrooms, but I have a thing about dried shrooms…)

In a saute pan, melt the butter and add the flour. If you’ve ever made a roux, this will be familiar. When it’s thick and looks kinda like playdough, start adding the milk a little at a time. (I sauteed my mushrooms ahead of making the roux and added them in after all the milk was added, but you could just as easily skip the pre-saute and add them in with the butter and flour.)

That’s it. Super simple right?

Now, if you need cream of chicken instead of mushroom, you could add a bouillon cube instead of mushrooms. If you needed cream of celery, perhaps some celery salt or just chopped celery. Experiment and taste and let me know what you like and dislike.

Now, on to recipe number two.

You have a saucepan of chemical-free cream of mushroom soup now; whatever are you going to do with it? Well, I have a solution comrades! Hashbrown casserole!

It’s got potatoes and cheese and creamy stuff. Who could ask for more?

My step dad’s casserole is particularly amazing, but I think I may have managed to one-up him this time around with my homemade cream of mushroom. See, not only do I get the benefit of no added chemicals, but I also get all those yummy chunks of mushroom in the casserole now too. I’m a mushroom fan though, so adding mushrooms to anything is a plus.

Alright, the ensemble for this beauty is as follows:

1 30 oz. bag of frozen hasbrowns—thawed (or if you're impatient...not thawed...)

1 small yellow onion, sauteed in butter

1 serving (the entire recipe) of our cream of mushroom improvement

1 container sour cream (I used a cup of homemade yogurt though, for a healthier version)

8 oz. shredded cheese (Cheddar works wonders, but it’s up to your taste buds)

Salt, pepper, and granulated garlic to taste

In a large bowl, mix all your ingredients together into a creamy mass of goodness.

Butter a 9x13 casserole dish and plop out your mass of yumminess into it.

Bake in a 350 degree F oven for 45 minutes.

Grab a large spoon and eat the entire thing without shame.

Now, here’s what might happen next:

“Miller,” you begin tentatively. “What can accompany this delicious casserole I just made? What could possibly hold up against this mind-blowingly simple and comforting dish?”
“Simple,” I answer, caressing your worried brow. “Roasted chicken.” I whisper.

Okay, maybe that’s just all of the Nora Roberts novels speaking…

But yes, roasted chicken is just the simple, tasteful dish that can hold up to the richness of the hashbrown casserole. It takes literally 3 ingredients, and one of those is chicken. Now, in lieu of typing out a step by step recipe for how to roast a chicken, I’m going to point you in the direction of a favored recipe instead.
Thomas Keller knows his shit. Seriously. Even if you don’t watch Food Network or Cooking Chanel, you’ve probably at least heard the name somewhere. So, when I want a simple roasted chicken, I turn to this recipe of his and lick the grease from my fingers with glee.

Alright. Three recipes. There we go. We did it.

Pat yourself on the back.

Next time on The Days of Our--no, wrong show...Next time we're gonna talk about all the things I didn't post about last year (ie: Thanksgiving, L's Second Birthday, Christmas, etc.)

Until next time comrades,

Keep it Classy.