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Here's a visual update on "cookie central." To date, 9 different types of cookies have been baked and are awaiting decorating. Tune in next Monday to see the outcome.

Here are some of the common cookie-baking staples I use, but in larger amounts,

 i.e. 8 pounds of butter, nearly 8 pounds of flour, so far.

Some of the butter is browned.

After breaking one electric cookie press, and 3 ratchet-style presses, I, this year, reverted to 

using a 40+ year old screw-type. It worked perfectly!

Learning to Love, a Story

We’d finally decided to try living together. We’d been seeing each other for about nine months and it was starting to be a hassle going back and forth from our respective homes, either late night or early morning. The problem now was how to fit in one apartment and yet keep our stuff separate, if we didn’t make it. We owned duplicates of practically everything. Being a solutions person, I suggested we rent one of those self-storage units. “Great idea!” he said and immediately took charge of the matter.

Did I mention that the cohabitation was his idea? You know, now that I think about it, he might have actually suggested that we get married. I think my response was something like, “Let’s take this one step at a time.” Thus we are combining households.

I’m just over 30 and most women my age would be thrilled at a proposal. I mean, I do love him, but I really want my marriage to last. How can I be sure he’s the right one? How does one know? What are the sure-fire signs? He was happy, healthy, handsome and had a good job. “What the heck are you looking for?” asks my friend, Joan. She makes me laugh when she says, “I can’t find a guy to meet my one exacting requirement - that he likes me back.”

My parents had met him and adored him. My step-father, who rarely dished out advice, took me aside one day and said, “He’s a good man. If this relationship doesn’t work out, it’s gonna be on you.”

So, here we are going through our stuff, deciding what to keep, what to sell. The selling on Craigslist was his idea. “We can start saving for a downpayment on a house,” he said. Everything we owned suddenly had a price tag attached to it. He’s not cheap exactly, but he’s definitely conservative with his spending and saving. I’m the opposite. You see what I mean?

My soon to be live-in-boyfriend's car was much newer than mine. Will we keep both cars? His response was that he could easily switch to using transit for work and I could drive his car. “Besides,” he laughed “I’ve been worried about you driving that eggbeater of yours.” The joke being that my beat-up car was powered by an old-fashioned, hand-cranked, rotary eggbeater.

And then we came across the extra window air conditioner. At my workplace people post wanted/for sale notices and I’d happened to notice that someone had posted a request from a needy senior citizen looking for a used air conditioner. The note mentioned that it would be necessary for the donor to deliver and install the air conditioner. I posed this to my boyfriend and saw his brow furrow. “Well, I was hoping we could get a good price for this unit...” “Oh, for goodness sake,” I replied rather crisply “money isn’t everything. He quickly acquiesced. 

One week later on a busy Saturday afternoon my boyfriend carried the air conditioner to Charles' 3rd floor apartment. Charles was about 85 and lived in a small studio crammed with his possessions. Charles showed us the window where he wanted the unit installed. My boyfriend went to work, talking with Charles the whole time. I don’t even remember what they were talking about, only that they occasionally laughed. The reason I don’t remember, is that in the light from the window, my boyfriend began to morph. Remember, I said he was handsome. But now as I watched him lift the air conditioner into place and carefully install it, securing it well to the window frame, he looked different. Was it the sunlight which backlit him, or did he have a halo? I don’t know, but suddenly he looked beatific. Like what I’d picture in my mind that Michael the Archangel might look like. Had I stopped breathing? I shook my head to clear it. Yeah but, there’s his tightfistedness, I thought to myself. I know he wants to buy a house and all, but still...

We were driving home, when he turned to me and said, “Let’s go take a look at our self-storage unit. I bet there’s some more stuff we could give to Charles or somebody in need” 

learning to love, learning to give,

yearning to love, yearning to give...

A Delicious Tale


It wasn’t just her two words, but it was the way she said them.

I’d spent most of the day hanging out with her. It was what I’d call a “delicious” day. We’d gone to the art museum in the morning, lunched together at a hip little downtown cafe, gone back to her place and laughed, talked and joked around for a couple of hours. But, now I had this nagging thought that I needed to get a move on. I knew my spouse would be home from work soon and expecting me to be there for dinner. So, I said, “Well, I’d better get going.”

Like I said, it wasn’t just the two words she chose, but the way she delivered them. As the words came out of her mouth, her whole body drooped, as if she were air-filled and someone had just stuck a pin in her. Her head slumped, her shoulders drooped and her arms and hands  dangled in front of her torso.

“Well, I’d better get going.”

“Oh, darn!” replied my granddaughter.

Delicious


It was time for me to leave. I was saying goodnight to him. He was lying on his back in his bed, not even looking at me. He seemed to be gazing out of his bedroom window. Was it my imagination or did he suddenly seem a bit distant, as if his mind was elsewhere? As I continued to observe him, he suddenly put his left forearm to his face, near to his nose and mouth. He paused there for a couple of seconds and then did the same with his right forearm. “I don’t smell anything,” he said as he turned and looked up at me.

“I don’t smell heaven.”

I smiled as I recalled the many times I’d said to my 3 1/2 year old grandson, “You smell delicious,” “You smell heavenly,” or, “You smell like heaven to me.” as I would hug and inhale him, trying to somehow absorb enough of him to sustain me until the next time I saw him.

Dolce Far Niente

On occasion, when sleep escapes me, I will flip on the television and search for reruns of sitcoms I watched as a child in the 50s and 60s. I’ve seen most of my favorite episodes numerous times. And there is something about that familiarity, that predictability, that nostalgic step back to a time when television was, for me, a wholesome, gentle view of family, that immediately puts me into a deep slumber. My own childhood family was a bit different from what I viewed back then, but that’s a tale  for my therapist... ;-)

Anyway, on an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show, the star tries to dupe his wife by phoning her, pretending to be a flirtatious Italian doctor. When he arrives home that evening, she’s prepared a candlelit, Italian dinner. (He’s unaware that she’s onto his ruse.) She greets him with the phrase, “dolce far niente.” She explains that it means, “how sweet to do nothing.”

And I couldn’t agree more. The deliciousness of doing nothing is so sweet you can almost taste it.

In 1998 my older sister gave me a book for Christmas, “The Art of Doing Nothing.” I read it at the time. Then in the midst of a busy life, I promptly stowed it away and forgot about it. Fast forward to 2012, where I’m methodically going through every item in our newly sold city house to determine if it is to be 1) kept, 2) given away, or 3) tossed. My modus operandi is to make an immediate decision. Touch an object and within a second or two decide: keep, donate or trash.

We were downsizing, so most everything had to go. But, surely I could find room in our new home for this little book, a gift from my sister. I opened it and inside was a bookmark she had picked out to go with the book. Also, there was a holiday notecard upon which she’d jotted a note to me.

Thanks for the reminder about the importance of pausing in life, Sis.

Whimsically Delicious

Thanksgiving, for some, is a busy time... planning, organizing, cleaning, cooking, shopping, etc. My "go to" when I've no time to write? You guessed it, haiku:

wine-fueled arguments discussions

gravy stained table linens

yet delicious still

guests coming? fret not

stress-free thanksgiving dinner

can be bought pre-made

wind is turning cool

savor the delicious Fall

does it have to change?

Seriously, I've much to be thankful for in my blessed life. At the top of my list are my two grandchildren.

And to close, a shot of some turkeys, who've managed to survive hunting season thus far, running in our yard.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

“How D’ya Like Them Apples?” Or "The Deceit of the Delicious”

To me, the red delicious apple is anything but delicious. It’s pretty, but it’s not a good-eating apple, with its tough skin and bland flavor. Nor does it hold up well in a pie. In fact, I’m guessing it was developed, just like the mass-produced, store-bought tomato, solely for eye-catching exterior color and firm “legs.” You know, with looks that promise flavor and sweetness, but deliver a bland fruit that has the taste of what I’d imagine cardboard has. (Hey, I’m going to have to remember this “ looks promise everything”/"firm legs" angle when I’m lecturing my husband on the dangers of “General Petraeus-type Fatal Attraction”. But, I digress...) 

Now the golden delicious apple is truly delicious. Juicy, so sweet to eat, and it holds up pretty well in cooking. Not my top favorite apple, but a good go-to apple. Fully deserving of the name delicious.

Here, possibly tomorrow, I will place a photo of a red delicious apple and a golden delicious apple. As it turns out, I have more visits to my blog when I also post a picture.  I plan to shop for groceries tomorrow. We'll see...

For the past two days my house has smelled DELICIOUS. I’ve been working on the quintessential Chicago-Style Italian Beef Sandwich. Although, a fairly simple dish, it takes some planning and special equipment* to make it taste like an authentic version.

The sandwich seems to have evolved from a need to make something tasty from less desired cuts of meat. Perhaps, it is suggested, that Italian meat cutters from the stockyards brought a cheaper cut of meat home and savvy cooks had to figure a way to deliciously present it. One trick of cooks is slow-cooking or roasting of tougher cuts of meat. Another trick would be thinly slicing such meat. And finally adding family familiar spices to enhance the flavor.

Rae’s Italian Beef

4-5 pounds of bottom round roast

1 teaspoon of crushed red pepper

2 teaspoons of dried oregano

small handful of fresh basil

4 cloves garlic

paprika

beef bouillon (I prefer “Better Than Bouillon” a semi-liquid)

salt and pepper, to taste

canned or homemade beef broth (around 28-29 ounces)

nutmeg (preferably freshly ground), to taste, but no more than a scant 1/2 teaspoon at most

3 - 4 medium sweet green peppers

bottled giardiniera

a couple french baguettes

I bought my nearly 5 pound bottom round roast for $14 (practically a steal). I then made a paste, using a mortar and pestle) of the oregano, basil, garlic, paprika, bouillon, salt and black pepper and stirred in the crushed red pepper. I rubbed this mixture on the roast and then let it sit at room temperature for an hour. Meanwhile I pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees fahrenheit. I put the roast in the oven and cooked it for 25 minutes before turning the heat down to 250 degrees. After another 25 minutes at 250, I poured on a can of beef broth and a can of water. I then let it slow-cook for an additional hour. I then turned the oven up to 275 degrees and let it cook for 1/2 hour. At this point I checked the internal temperature, which was barely 140 degrees. I took the roast out of the oven and let it sit until cool enough to handle. I cut it in half, hoping the interior would still be nicely pink. It was. I strained the broth and put the cut halves and richly flavored broth in a gallon-size zip closable freezer bag. Done for the day.

The next day I poured out the broth, carefully saving it. I put the meat halves in the freezer for 1 1/2 hours. The partially frozen meat is much easier to slice. *Now here comes the “special equipment” part. I own a “professional” meat slicer. It’s certainly not restaurant/deli quality, but it’s a pretty decent home version. I’ve never been able to slice the meat thin enough for my liking. Hence I finally caved and bought a slicer, I found on sale at Blaine’s Farm and Fleet. It’s German-made and “knock on wood,” has held up well.

Anyway, I sliced the semi-frozen meat at the thinnest possible setting. I put the sliced meat back in the seasoned broth and add an additional can of beef broth, along with a sprinkling of the above herbs & spices to taste. Heat it through (that pinkness in the meat will now disappear). AND here is the IMPORTANT part. The SECRET INGREDIENT: grate some fresh nutmeg onto the meat/broth mixture and gently stir. You’re set now, as far as the meat.

The sweet peppers can be prepared the day you’re roasting the meat: Wash the sweet green peppers and roast in a 250 degree oven, turning every 15 minutes until they’re limp and the skin is blistered on all sides. This usually takes about one hour. Remove from the oven and wrap in foil or paper bag until cool. The steam will help the skin separate from the peppers. When cool, remove skin and inside pith and seeds and discard. Slice or roughly chop the remaining peppers and season lightly with extra virgin olive oil, a pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper. Cover them if you’ve prepared them the day before. Done.

When ready to serve, cut baguettes into serving pieces of 4-6 inches and slice the bread pieces almost in half. Put heated Italian beef onto the bread. Top with spicy giardiniera or sweet green peppers. For extra juiciness, some prefer to dip their sandwich into the broth (you can also spoon additional broth on, however it’s Chicago customary to dip it.)

Sorry, I don't have a photo of the finished sandwich, but honestly, they were eaten before I could take one. We brought them to a pot-luck supper and they disappeared quickly. :-)

Delicious!

DELICIOUS

It’s funny, but when I think of the word “delicious” one of the first things that comes to mind isn’t  food related. I think of the delicious nap. I think of the restorative powers of a delicious nap. I picture myself lying on a sofa, near an open window, with a light summer breeze rustling the curtain. I’d probably be reading a book and at some point Morpheus’ arms would envelope me and I would graciously succumb. Sleep would wash over me midday, like some kind of narcotic-laced wave.

I love naps so much, it doesn’t even have to be my own. I’m happy to see my husband take a nap, or a visiting guest or the sacred beauty of a grandchild’s peaceful face as they slumber in the daylight. It actually does my body, my soul good to see someone else rest midday. Heck, I’m not much of a pet person, but I even like the sight of a midday-sleeping cat or dog.

visiting guest

I usually hold hope that a nap will be a part of my day. It rarely is.

Simply Delicious

“Simply Delicious” is my segue from the inspirational word “simple” to the word “delicious.” Basically, for the month of November any spare time I have will be taken up with baking cookies.

After all, what could be more delicious than a cookie? In fact, I wonder what is the perfect dessert? I suppose some would say ice cream. And for me ice cream is a close second. I’d probably put a good homemade cake, torte or cupcake at third, followed in no particular order pie, flan/pudding, mousse, cheesecake, etc. Cookies would definitely top my list.

And speaking of lists, here is my long list for my holiday cookies:

* Butter Cookies dipped in chocolate and chopped macadamia nuts

* Decorated Spritz

* Walnut Cookies with Chocolate/Walnut filling (or Chocolate/Hazelnut filling?)

* Kourambiedes

* Chocolate Vanilla Triangles

* Heath Bar Shortbread

* Chocolate-Glazed Toffee Bars

* Chocolate Crinkles

* Butter Mint Cookies

* Cherry White Chocolate Shortbread

* Chocolate Citrus Truffle Cookies

* Shimmer Cookies

* Greek Almond Shortbread Rounds

* Raspberry Sugar Cookie Sandwiches

* Cherry Chocolate Cookies

* Millionaire Shortbread

* Mother Bauer’s Buttered Rum Cookies

* Chocolate Dipped Melting Moments

* Lora Brody’s Chocolate Phantoms

* Hazelnut Browned-Butter Shortbread with Fleur de Sel

Tune in at the end of the month to see which made it to Rae’s 2012 Holiday Cookie Short List, along with photos and maybe a recipe or two.

The Simple Truth (at least as I see it ;-) )

I could just kick myself for not posting this a week earlier. As I watched and read the news on the waning days of the U.S. election process, I sang out more than once to my husband, “...for the times they are a-changin’.” It took me back to my 60s Bob Dylan-infused days. Oh, the robust energy, elasticity and power of youth... Anyway, they seem to get the idea that one should look well to the characters and qualifications of those you elect. Last night I heard a political analyst say, “Well, as the poet said, “The times they are a-changin’.” 

Come mothers and fathers

Throughout the land

And don’t criticize

What you can’t understand

Your sons and your daughters

Are beyond your command

Your old road is rapidly agin’

Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand

For the times they are a-changin’

Okay, new week, new topic/inspiration coming tomorrow (or the next day.)

So Simple, So Basic

I sometimes wish for a simple popular presidential election system of voting. I don’t know if it would actually be simpler, but it just seems logical to me that it would indeed be so. I think the electoral college system is outdated and should be revoked, or abolished or whatever the correct term is. I tire quickly of the whole process of elections, the seemingly endless political degradation, attack ads, partisan antics, pundits’ analyses, fact-checking, polls, etc.
However, none of this seems to slake an overwhelming feeling of American pride when I step into the voting booth on election day.

I hope all who care to, will get out and vote. It’s as simple as that.

The Simple After-Dinner Butter Mint

This recipe is adapted from a “Buttermint Twists” recipe I found on the Land O Lakes web site. I was looking for a simple butter mint recipe. I use the mints to make a cookie on a long list of holiday cookies I will bake in the coming weeks. The cookie recipe calls for butter mints which crushed and added to the cookie dough give it a subtle, but noticeable mint flavor. I’m crazy about the cookies, but as I think about it, I don’t recall that they were ever mentioned by my cookie recipients, who often tell me which cookies they love the most. I make a mental notes on their comments, but with all the other stuff I keep crammed in my head, who knows?

Anyway, I didn’t want to buy a bag of whole bag of butter mints, when the cookie recipe calls for only a scant cup of mints. So, I searched for a simple butter mint recipe and Voila!  They taste just like the mints I remember loving when I was a child.

Buttermints

1/4 cup softened butter

2 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons of powdered sugar

3 tablespoons light or heavy cream

1/2 teaspoon peppermint extract

1 to 2 drops food color (optional)

(Above is the original recipe cut in half, because I didn’t need that many mints. But, as I think about it, maybe next holiday cookie bake-off, I will make the whole recipe and add some to the packages of cookies I give to family and friends. If you love mints go to the LOL website and try the full version.)

Put softened butter in a large mixing bowl. Beat at low speed, scraping down sides occasionally, until creamy. Add the rest of the ingredients, sugar, cream and mint extract. Continue beating and scraping down for another 2-4 minutes until mixture forms a soft dough.

Now here you can get creative and divide dough using a scant drop of color for each section of dough. I used only red color, because I want my cookies to have a pinkish hue.

Place dough, on a surface lightly sprinkled with powdered sugar and knead until smooth. Immediately cover with plastic food wrap to prevent drying out. Roll 1 heaping tablespoon of dough into 4-inch rope. (If you have more than one color dough, again get creative and twist colored ropes together.) Add more powdered sugar, if necessary, when rolling. Cut diagonally into 1-inch pieces. Place twists onto waxed paper-lined plate or baking sheet. Repeat with remaining dough. Let mints stand uncovered at room temperature until surface is dry (8-12 hours). I left them overnight.

Store by layering mints between sheets of waxed paper in airtight container. Refrigerate up to 1 month or, store in freezer up to 2 months.

I’ll probably never buy store-bought butter mints again. And the beauty of it is, I only had to roll and cut out a few. Since you must crush the mints for the cookie recipe, I made a few as a test and just crumbled the rest of the dough and left it to dry. Simple!

Simple

I was 12 years old when I saw him. It’s been decades since. I can’t recall his name and for some reason that upsets me.

I was at a classmate’s house. Her father had hired a contractor to sod their lawn, both front and back yards. The contractor dropped off two fellows, along with a truckload of sod, and drove away.

The younger of the two workers came to the back door and asked my friend to turn on the water to the outside spigot. The worker wasn’t much older than me, 16 at the most. My friend dashed to the basement to turn it on.

My friend seemed familiar with the pair. I’d guessed they’d done work for her family in the past. She told me that the older of the pair, a man who I’d guess to be in his 40s, was prone to seizures. Perhaps I looked alarmed, because she reassured me that if he had a seizure the boy would know exactly what to do. “The kid will just put a stick in his mouth and sit on top of him until it’s over.” “A stick in his mouth!?” “Yes,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “to keep him from swallowing his tongue.” Swallowing his tongue? I’ll have to ask mom about this later, I thought.

Then my friend lowered her voice and said, “Watch this.” She took me outside and called the man by name. He turned around and I noticed that he had the look of a simple man. “Simple” was a term I’d heard my grandfather use. The current phrase, at the time, was “mentally retarded.” She asked him, “Why are you working with the kid here?” He looked at the ground and stammered, “Cu-cu-cu-cuz I’m du-dumb and cu-cuz I’m st-st-st-stupid.” She turned, grabbed my arm and pulled me back inside.

In a split second my brain conjured a vision of this man as a boy and a life of abuse at the hands of someone, maybe a stepparent, maybe a caretaker in an institution, just surely not his own flesh and blood. I could see him being made to state that he was dumb and that he was stupid until he could repeat it on command, like a trained pet. I pictured him standing there, head down, just a little boy mind you, stammering out those words. My heart ached.

Throughout that morning I’d glance out at the man. I began to marvel at the flawless skill with which he laid the sod, cutting with an artist’s hand around the curves and corners of the walkways and flowerbed areas. He made it look so simple.

Haiku is noted for its short simplicity. At least I think that’s what my 7th grade teacher, Sister Beata told us. Right now I 'm only sure about the 17 syllables, at least I'm almost sure. 

breathe in fresh sweet air

love country simplicity

miss city chaos

life, like pie - simple

don’t try to save or freeze it

just gobble it up

it’s a piece of cake

as simple as 1, 2, 3

yet it eludes me

and finally, off the "simple" theme, but it's on my mind:

life interrupted

Sandy raised her mighty fist

resilience have we

I keep my fellow Americans affected by the hurricane in my thoughts.

I'm starting the month with an idea that was inspired by the old Utne Reader (I think they've changed the name over the years.) Who knows how long my "schtick" will last, but here goes: I'll pick a topic upon which I'll post different little blurbs every day or so, maybe including a recipe, if I can work it into the topic. My beginning topic, (taking my blog title into consideration): SIMPLE.

Simple

“Simple.” He points to a burnt steak sitting on a platter between us. There are others in the room, but his words are directed at me. “The best food is simple. You don’t have to make those complicated recipes you make. Yeah, sure they taste good, but you don’t have to fuss so much to make a great meal.” He picks up an overcooked mini sweetcorn cob, that two hours previously sat firm and juicy in his freezer and now has been reduced to near mush.  He waves it near my face and repeats, “Simple.” I put the back of my fist to my mouth, furrow my brow, nodding as if I’m actually taking his words to heart, but it’s more to keep the corners of my mouth from turning up, thus revealing the humor I find in his words as I recall a recent evening when he devoured my crabmeat enchiladas verde and begged for the leftovers. “Yup,” he says emphatically, putting down the corn “Simple.”

Rae's Crabmeat Enchiladas

1 tbs olive oil

1/2 cup finely sliced onion

1/4 to 1/2 tsp bottle hot sauce (to taste)

coarse salt and freshly ground pepper

a sprinkling of seasoned salt and garlic powder

pinch of sugar

1/2 pound peeled and deveined medium shrimp

4 ounces cream cheese, room temp.

3/4 cup grated monterey jack cheese

1/2 pound crabmeat, picked over

10 -12 medium flour or corn tortillas

1 cup good quality enchilada verde sauce (I like Frontera’s)

2-3 tomatillos

clove of garlic

one chipotle pepper (I scrape out the hot seeds, since I’m looking for gentle heat & don’t wish to overpower the seafood) in adobo sauce (I freeze the rest of the peppers and sauce)

For the filling:

Heat a skillet over medium heat. Add the oil.  Then add the onion. Cook, stirring often, until soft and translucent, about 4 minutes. Season the onions with hot sauce, salts, pepper, garlic powder & sugar. Cook for 1 minute more. Stir in shrimp with a pinch each of salt and pepper and other seasonings & cook & stir, just until shrimp are opaque, 1 minute or so. Blend in 1/2 cup of the monterey cheese and let it sit a minute. Transfer the mixture to a bowl and cool.

To the cooled shrimp mixture, add the cream cheese & crab. Stir very gently to combine, taste and season as needed with additional above mentioned seasonings. Let sit while you “doctor” the bought enchilada sauce.

Sauce:

Roast tomatillos, & garlic clove in the broiler, for a couple of minutes or until just beginning to brown and soften. Turn once and cook for another minute. Let cool a bit, then peel garlic clove and put in a blender or food processor with the chipotle pepper, dripping a bit with adobo sauce. Blend and add to the purchased enchilada verde sauce.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Warm the tortillas in a separate frypan or in the microwave, so they are soft and pliable. On a work surface place 2 tablespoons or so of filling onto the end of each tortilla. Roll up and place, seam side down, into a lightly greased 9x13 inch baking dish. Pour the combined enchilada sauce and spread the mixture over the enchiladas. Top with the remaining 1/4 cup of monterey jack and bake until heated through, about 20-25 minutes or just until tops are ever so lightly browned and bubbly.