December 24th, 2012
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We have the smallest amount of snow possible, the rock hard leftovers from the 15 inches that fell on the 9th, then melted, re-froze and eventually got rained on a week later. So technically, we’ll have a white Christmas, but not the magical white, sparkling like a lit up spruce tree. We’ll definitely have cold too, as a deep freeze seems to be settling over Minnesota.
But our Christmas won’t look like this. We woke to this on Christmas Day of 2009 and it was magical.
I have plenty of cookies in the pantry, thanks to a cookie exchange with online friends, the kind of friends that share tiny tidbits of daily life through Twitter, or Instagram, some who have never met but feel like old friends the moment you’re in the same room. There was a lot of hugging at this cookie exchange. Because there was a lot of love. There was wine, beer and simple food. The cookies were secondary; it was time for girls to gather and hearts to open and time to connect. This last week or so held a lot of love between friends. It was just what I needed.
There will be family. There will be food, no doubt. There will be time in the car as we scurry from one house, then back home for a second celebration. There is a tall and regal fir tree in the corner, groaning under the weight of a lifetime, collected carefully and hung like a finely choreographed play, dripping in tinsel, tin icicles, twinkling lights and promise. Garlands are strung, wreaths are hung, and packages arrive, empty boxes and bags here and there, things stashed in closets and under desks and stern looks are sent ’round to not snoop or peek. Eli sits under the brightly lit Christmas tree, gazing at nothing. It warms my heart every time I catch him doing it.
The sky bleeds reds and golds, both morning and night, casting purple shadows across the landscape, the solstice has passed and even caught deep in the throes of Winter darkness and cold, we all know the days are getting longer, and it’s only three months until Spring. The trees know, stark and black against the sky, and the ground knows, frozen solid under our feet, it’s roots asleep. Even our cats know, as we open the door each frigid morning, they sniff the air knowingly, before they retreat back to the warmth. It’s expected, and the extra blankets, throws and lap covers have come out of storage and drape the sofas with promise. Promise of warmth on a cold night. Promise of a season, brief and quiet.
But for now, it’s Christmas. It’s magic and shining eyes and the birth of our Savior. It’s carols and warm embraces and people we love. It’s a fire, a glass of wine. It’s reaching out more and holding back less. It’s hope and affirmation.
From my family to yours, we wish for you the Merriest Christmas, full of light and hope,
and a blissful coming New Year!!
{{My blog will be undergoing a big makeover, and I likely won’t be posting much between now and when it’s complete.
Hopefully before the first month of 2013 is over, we’ll sort the details, dot the i’s, cross the t’s,
wrangle the why’s and how’s and begin anew with a quiet ‘Ta-Da!’. See you then, friends!!}}
December 18th, 2012
| Comments Off on i chose joy {just write 66}
I never watch the news on television, and I wasn’t about to start now.
I barely read a newspaper any longer either. The fixation in the news media on the horrors of our world are far too much for this tender heart to bear. So I didn’t read the newspapers. None of them. And I stayed away from the news online too.
I skipped over Twitter and Facebook too, skimming my eyes over the constant coverage, the grim details, the unbearable sorrow. When a few of my Twitter friends chose to constantly tweet about it, I really had no other choice. I blocked them. I hated it, but that’s what I needed. I read a few of their words on their own blogs, but even then I decided I couldn’t finish these posts. So I didn’t read their blogs anymore.
There was only one, this one, that I read, and re-read and read over and over again. This was the one that people needed to read.
I don’t need to read all the news about it. No one needs to fixate on it. It does no one any good, but we, as a society, can’t seem to look away, and the sorrow played out through sensationalist journalism is a drug that we can’t seem to give up in our lives. And it does no good but to make us anxious, panicky and mournful.
I did talk briefly about it with close friends, over dinner, and wine and connection. But it was more about how to cope, and understand, then about details. I don’t want the details. Why does anyone want the details?
Instead, I chose joy. And it was the hardest joy to choose.
And I prayed. Every time I thought of the sorrow- and believe me, even without the constant onslaught of tweets and status updates and everything else, I thought about it A LOT– and when I did, I prayed. I prayed for the families. I prayed for the souls lost. I prayed for our nation, and the anxiety it caused. I just prayed.
I chose to pray every time I thought about it. Because quite frankly, I didn’t know what else to do. Nothing will help; no arguing, no pontification, no lobbying, no pleading, no nothing. Panic won’t help. Anxiety won’t help. Fear, by God, fear will not help.
I chose joy. I chose to buy our Christmas tree, drenched in the weekend’s rain. I chose to pull out box after box of Christmas decorations and deck my halls. I chose to light up our house and dwell in the light, not the darkness. I chose joy. I chose to sing. I chose to smile and hug and think of the birth of our Saviour. I set up our Nativity scene and prayed some more.
I chose joy. I begrudge no one for their choices, and their means to understand.
But for me, I chose joy.
 This is Just Write 66.Find it every week at The Extraordinary Ordinary{{Comments are closed on this post.}}
December 17th, 2012
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The downside of shopping for your Christmas tree the day after a rare December rainstorm is that you’re bringing a soaking wet pine tree in to your home. As you set it up, it’s dripping down on your shoulders while you twist the screws on the stand in to place. You need a sheet underneath, an old one, to catch the water as it falls and those boxes you’ve stockpiled, filled with decades of memories and treasures and pressed tin icicles, baubles and bangles and bows now must sit and wait for your tree to dry.
Waiting is what the month of December is all about, it seems. We wait for the birth day of Christ, for the celebration and pageantry, for the singing of familiar songs and melodies. We wait for the lighting of candles, pans of latkes, stories of the past. We wait. And we wait. Our plans to put up our tree last weekend were derailed by a monster storm, and a death in the family, so we waited for a week of busy days to pass for a few free hours to seek out a perfect tree for us. We wait for cookies to bake. We wait for the celebrations that come. And we wait while aromatic fruit bread bakes in the oven, filling the home with nostalgic memories.
The first time I made this bread three years ago, the smell of dried fruit macerating in apple cider on the counter drove such a knife of remembrance through me that it stopped me cold. Try as I might, I couldn’t dredge up where it originated, what brought it on. Somewhere in a long ago year, most likely around Christmas and in the waiting, I was enveloped by a smell, or tasted a bread like this one, rich with dried fruit, sweet with a butter crumb. It made an impression on me that never left, though it dove deep beneath the surface to linger without my knowledge.
I find that happens a lot in December. Keeping company with our waiting are the memories of a lifetime of Decembers, wrapped up in dusty boxes that we pull out and unwrap, willingly remembered or the unplanned ones that throw us off kilter. I’m always surprised when I open the decorations from last year because there will always be something I’ve forgotten, a new ornament or tabletop decoration that came late to the party, or in the aftermath of Christmas that gets tucked away. I love these surprises, along with the waiting, and I love the way our brains can rightly kick out something at the most opportune time for us to recall with fondness or joy. I don’t know where the memory came from, triggered by the making of this sweet bread, but it left me feeling comforted and at ease, so I know it has to be from a happy time. Whatever the origin, I can draw on it’s feeling with one breath, and a simple recipe each December, enjoying this bread while I wait for the 25th to come.
Fruktkaka
4 oz. each dried figs, apricots and raisins- fine chop figs and apricots
1/2 c. dark rum (use apple cider for a non-alcoholic option)
1 T. orange zest
1-1/2 t. lemon zest
12 T. unsalted butter, softened
1-3/4 c. AP flour
1 t. baking soda
1 c. superfine sugar
4 eggs
Combine figs, apricots, raisins and both fruit zest with rum (or cider) and stir to combine. Cover and allow to sit at room temperature for up to 4 hours, and as long as overnight. Stir the mixture on occasion.
Heat oven to 350°. Grease the bottom and sides of a standard 9×5 loaf pan and dust with flour. Tap out excess and set aside.
Whisk flour and baking soda in a measuring cup and set aside. Combine the sugar and butter in the bowl of a stand mixer, and blend on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 3-4 minutes. Scrape the bowl a few times to make sure it’s uniform. Add the eggs one at a time and blend thoroughly after each one. Add the fruit, then the flour mixture and blend until fully combined. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan, smooth the top and bake for 40-45 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the loaf comes out clean. Unmold cake after 15-20 minutes, then cool completely on a wire rack before slicing.
From the December 2009 issue of Saveur magazine
December 13th, 2012
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It’s two weeks to Christmas and right on schedule, we got smacked with an epic Winter storm. Almost 14 inches of snow fell over the weekend, blanketing our state and instantly changing everything from dull December to dazzling white. The internal switch to Christmas mode snapped on with a definitive click, and now I’m really eager to pull out decorations and deck the halls. I’ve always waited until a few weeks prior to Christmas to really make the house festive, and having such a beautiful white landscape to look at makes it so much easier. Last year, Christmas came and went without snow.
It rained the week before, and temperatures were mild enough on Christmas to wear a light jacket. Growing up in Minnesota my entire life, I couldn’t recall when that had ever happened. The previous year, we had magical Christmas snow that fell in huge flakes on Christmas morning and lifted my heart. Christmas decorations buried under thick, fluffy snow is a sight that renders me still, my eyes shining and wide. I could never get enough of that. Seeing them drip with rain last year was painful.
But not this year.
But it’s TWO WEEKS to Christmas. And I think I should be in panic mode but quite frankly, I’m not. Long ago I decided not to give in to the frenzy that accompanies this most beautiful of holidays, choosing instead to focus on the reason for such a blessed day. I do some baking, but these days I’m giving away the goods more than keeping them; I do set up our decorations, I do send out cards and a few gifts, I do wish to find a perfect something for Mike and Griffin, but if I don’t I can’t sweat it. Life will go on, with or without these, and there will be rain when there should be snow and each 24 hours will pass whether I choose to cram them full of glad tidings, or sit quietly in front of the fire with a glass of wine. We had a very sad loss in our family last week and our plans for this past Sunday came screeching to a halt as we gathered to bid a final farewell, among the thickly falling snow. I can’t put all that much emphasis on festive decorations and holiday jubilee when I know someone’s heart is hurting. It just pulls so much into perspective.
But we still need to eat something. And after a day of struggling over icy, snow covered roads and feeling so much sorrow, having an option for a really quick meal was so nice to have. After clearing a foot of snow from our driveway, I quickly pulled together a flatbread pizza, using Flat-Out’s new line of Flatbread Pizza Crusts. In less than 10 minutes, I had a simple dinner that filled up the hollow space inside.
Flat Outs new line of ready to eat pizza crusts couldn’t be any easier for making a quick meal. From a frozen state, you can place them right in the oven (or use a handy toaster oven, too) and they thaw in minutes. Top them in whatever fashion you love and place them back in the oven to heat the toppings. That pizza above didn’t even take 10 minutes from start to finish.
Flat-Out pizza crusts are perfect for a casual gathering, or movie night with family. Put your favorite holiday classic on… mine is The Christmas Story, or A Charlie Brown Christmas; you need little else besides a variety of pizza toppings to suit everyone’s tastes. A hot oven, and Flat-Outs three crust options- Rustic White, Heritage Wheat or Spicy Italian- and you’ve got the potential for endless combinations. While my boy could live happily with a pizza loaded with meat, Mike and I prefer lighter, vegetarian pizza. I love how we can create our own with these simple crusts, and not be so stuffed afterwards due to how light they are.
My simple recipe for an exquisite pizza was olive tapenade on the bottom, fresh mushrooms and shredded mozzarella cheese. We also have used pickled banana peppers, roasted red peppers, and kalamata olives; my boy used italian sausage and sliced pepperoni on his pizzas.
DISCLAIMER:
I was provided a gift card and all the Flat-Out Artisan Pizza Crusts needed by The Motherhood,
in exchange for this post.
Flat-Out Artisan Pizza Crusts are introduced exclusively at WalMart.
December 11th, 2012
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It was the kind of pain that wrenches at your insides, like a giant’s hand tearing them to shreds. Your chest heaves, your ribs spreading wide with each gasp, tears pouring from your eyes in a drenching rain.
I can’t seem to do anything else but shed tears for her loss, the loss of a man she gave heart and soul to, who returned it ten-fold. And my loss, as they tragically coincided under a snowy sky on a December day that will never be forgotten. My heart hurts when I remember my own pain, the wandering grief that followed, swallowing up normalcy, making your head thick, yet empty. Every effort was needed to do even the most mundane of tasks, of pulling on clothes, moving from one hour of the day to the next and at the end trying to determine how you got to bedtime because you can’t recall one moment of the past 12 hours.
I’ve known that numbing loss and she says to me, as I hold her shoulders close “I’m just so, so sad. And I keep waiting for the moment that I won’t feel so sad!” And I cry harder when I think “It will never come.” I wish I could tell her it will all be fine, but I can’t. Because it won’t. And I know all too well that it won’t.
Twenty one years have passed since the loss of my sister. While I don’t cry at the drop of a hat any longer for her lost life, for the darkness that took her down, drowning and gulping for air, my heart feels the loss every year on December 9th. And 18 years have passed since my Mom left this earth, a loss more acute than I could have ever imagined. Christmas was her favorite time of the year and I still can break down in tearing sobs of pain when the familiar strains of our favorite holiday music fills the air.
I wish I could say to her ‘It gets better.’ but truthfully, I just tell her that it gets less painful. It never gets better. It never heals.You can never reclaim your life as it was. Your heart can still beat, your breath still drawn in, blown out and repeated for eternity, but the empty gash in your heart becomes yet another hole, a reminder that you loved someone so deeply that without them, life lacks the sense and the meaning that you crave. It’s all I can say. She nods. She knows. We both know.
Much like that terrible day 21 years ago, the earth on it’s December axis has shifted from mild and warm, to cold, snowed in and frozen, like our hearts when loss tears them apart. Every breath feels like your lungs could crack, the air so fragile in it’s icy state. So much like our heart, our souls when grief comes. At some point, Spring will boast it’s return, the earth will thaw and flowers bloom and air becomes sweet and mild once more but we keep that season of snow and cold inside us all the time, whether we want to or not. Loss takes from us our eternal Spring. And I’ve weathered many heart-breaking winters of grief. I know her pain will linger for months on end and a tear comes to my eye for her.
Join Heather of The Extraordinary Ordinary for Just Write Tuesdays.
This is the 65th installment of freely written thoughts.
December 6th, 2012
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A few years ago, I had a bit of a revelation in the kitchen. I learned about Sugar Plums. Yes! THOSE Sugar Plums… as in ‘visions of sugar plums danced in their head’; the stuff of lore and childhood wonder on Christmas Eve, the giddy anticipation of morning and a stocking stuffed with toys.
I remember the day quite well; it was a blindingly sunny, brilliantly blue-sky day in December, but the air was frigid with cold, the cold that seems like you could break it with one swift punch. Inside the house, as the furnace hummed, the sunshine on my back so warm that I’d shed my sweater, but kept it close at hand for that magical moment when the sun slips low enough to return the chill to the air. I was gathering ingredients together to make these little gems; dried apricots, figs, and dates, almonds, pecans, pistachios…. it was a heavenly spread laying on the countertop in my kitchen. I had a few round, fat oranges for zest and juice, a jar of honey that caught the sunshine just right, reflecting a golden cast. Everything was measured in to the food processor and I pushed a button. In moments, the mix was reduced to a fine mince and when I popped off the cover, the flood of aromas that swept up to my nose sent chills through me. The hair on my arms stood tall. It was fresh, citrus-y and nutty all at once, and rich with some ancient memory loaded in my mind, far too remote to ever recall correctly. I scraped it all in a bowl, and with a small cup of warm water at hand, I began to form them in to balls. Miles Davis blew his sweet notes on the radio, filling the kitchen with melodious sound, the sun gave the room a drowsy feel, Christmas crept ever closer and in my own two hands, a little Christmas miracle occurred.
Once the entire mass was formed, dredged in coconut or powdered sugar and set in the refrigerator, I felt like I’d stepped in to another dimension in time. Years and years of hearing the same Christmas story, thinking of my own childhood Christmas Eve, laying in bed thinking I will never! sleep! due to all the excitement and waking up with a start, shot through with the thrill of Christmas morning, I never even imagined that such a thing existed as a Sugar Plum. Ages before the Internet could bring anything in your head to reality, I just figured it was a treat of bygone days that no one had any clue how to make. If my Mom didn’t know (because you ALL remember when your Mom knew everything) then it couldn’t possibly be real.
But real they are. And that little treat, passed around to wide eyes as Christmas drew nearer that year, brought exclamations of the same; “These are real?” as eager fingers held one for examination. I nodded. “I know!” and with one bite, a burst of sweet fruit and crunchy nut, with the hint of orange juice and I could see the idea settling in everyone who tried them. At some point, ancient in time I imagine the Sugar Plum was likely something else all together, that slipped from our collective understanding, lost forever. But these are a worthy replacement, ready to be placed front and center in your holiday celebrations.
“I wish I’d known about this years ago.” someone said to me then, biting in to the fragrant mass. “I would have added these to our holiday baking every year.”
“Well,” I said to her, ” now you can.”
Sugar Plums
2 cups almonds, toasted and roughly chopped
1 cup dried apricots
1 cup pitted dates
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 teaspoons grated orange zest
2 tablespoons orange juice
1 tablespoon honey
Unsweetened flaked coconut or powdered sugar for rolling
1. Line a baking sheet with parchment or wax paper.
2. Combine almonds, apricots, dates, cinnamon, and zest in a food processor and process into a finely ground mixture.
3. Add orange juice and honey, and combine until the mixture becomes a sticky ball.
4. Pinch off pieces of the mixture and form into 1-inch balls. Roll in coconut or powdered sugar. Place on the baking sheet and chill for about 1 hour until firm.
Recipe from Field Guide to Candy by Anita Chu; Quirk Books, 2009
KATE’S NOTES:
I used two cups equivalent of nuts, utilizing pistachios and pecans as well as almonds. It’s my holy trifecta of nutty favorites. Or you could use other nuts like peanuts, walnuts, brazil nuts. The possibilities are endless for dried fruit substitutions; raisins both black or gold, cranberries, cherries, currants, pineapple, mango. . Try it with lemon juice and zest for a different flavor, or maple syrup in place of the honey. Use cardamom instead of nutmeg and cinnamon.
I added a bit more honey and orange juice, as the amount in the recipe didn’t seem to be enough to make the mixture as sticky as it needed to hold together. Adjust it according to your taste preferences.
These improve, and deepen in flavor the longer they sit in the refrigerator. For optimum flavor, make them a week ahead of time.
REMINDER!!
You still have some time to enter my giveaway for a set of Chinet’s Disposable Bakeware.
Go see THIS POST for more details!
December 3rd, 2012
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Still awaiting our first real snowfall here in Minnesota. Anyone remember this from two years ago??
That was a winter that just didn’t quit. As much as I love snow, even my adoration of it was stretched to the limit that year. And then last year, it rained the week before Christmas, and everything was brown.
So maybe, this year will be a bit in between all that. I guess that remains to be seen.
But it is December, and snow or otherwise, the days are swiftly passing towards another big holiday season, more feasting, a party to attend, a gathering of family, work celebrations….. it’s never ending. Scurrying here and there, among dinners, cookie exchanges, a quiet lunch with good friends can have it’s own rewards, and it’s own stress. One aspect of attending parties that I always disliked was bringing a dish and trying to remember to grab the container it was in when everything was done. Ever been faced with that same issue?
Chinet has created a new line of bakeware that’s fully disposable, and it takes away that need to remember. This past Spring I was sent a big box of these products to try and admittedly, at the onset I was skeptical. I’m not big on the whole disposable everything mentality. I like to utilize items that don’t end up filling the trash and the concept of this bakeware sort of rubs up against that. But I have to say, in a pinch, when you want to bring your food elsewhere and just not even think about retrieving anything when the party is over, these fit the bill easily.
These pans can be used in multiple ways; they can be baked in the oven (minus the lid), they can go straight in to the freezer (and back again in to the oven- sans lid, of course) and when you’re finished with them, they can go right in the trash. If you are adamant about recycling, the outer layer can be separated from the inner, non-stick core and tossed in the compost bin. And best of all, they all come with tight fitting, snap-on lids. No need for foil or plastic wrap. These are perfect for potlucks parties, bringing a meal to someone, stocking the freezer of expectant parents, those holiday cookie exchanges, the family dinners. I used several of these for Griffin’s graduation party last June and in the chaos and madness of a house full of people, one of the pans was knocked off the table. I rescued the bars from the floor and the action barely halted as no further clean up was necessary. Made of the same sturdy material as Chinet’s plates, they’re completely unbreakable, but also solid enough to handle your casseroles, cakes, gratins or anything. Even these decadent, rich and fudgey brownies.
Chinet has graciously offered a complete set of this bakeware to one of my lucky readers. That’s YOU. There’s three pans with lids per set, and you’ll receive each type of bakeware you see in that top picture above; 9×13 cake pans, 8×8 baking pans, large and small oval bakers. For your holiday plans, this couldn’t make it easier. And I’ll make it even simpler; just leave me a comment on this post. Any comment will do, but make it quick; on Friday, December 7th I will pick one lucky winner. I want to get these in your hands as soon as possible.
And that brownie? Yeah, those are killer good. So good, so moist and tender, so dark and dreamy….. make up a pan (in your NEW Chinet bakeware) and offer them to the Scrooge in your life and watch the emotional ice melt. Yes. They’re THAT amazing.
Dark Fudgy Brownies
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
2/3 cup confectioners’ sugar
3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder, American-style or Dutch-process
3 ounces dark or bittersweet chocolate (50-72% cacao), coarsely chopped, plus 2 1/2 ounces chopped into mini chip-size pieces, divided
1 1/2 tablespoons canola oil
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons light corn syrup blended with 3 tablespoons lukewarm water
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 large egg
1/3 cup chopped toasted walnuts, optional
Position rack in center of oven; preheat to 350°F. Line an 8-inch-square baking pan with foil, letting it overhang on two opposing sides. Coat with cooking spray.
Sift flour, confectioners’ sugar and cocoa together into a small bowl. Combine the 3 ounces coarsely chopped chocolate and oil in a heavy medium saucepan; place over the lowest heat, stirring, until just melted and smooth, being very careful the chocolate does not overheat. Remove from the heat and stir in granulated sugar, corn syrup mixture, vanilla and salt until the sugar dissolves. Vigorously stir in egg until smoothly incorporated. Gently stir in the dry ingredients. Fold in the walnuts (if using) and the remaining 2 1/2 ounces chopped chocolate just until well blended. Turn out the batter into the pan, spreading evenly.
Bake the brownies until almost firm in the center and a toothpick inserted comes out with some moist batter clinging to it, 20 to 24 minutes. Let cool completely on a wire rack, about 2 1/2 hours.
Using the overhanging foil as handles, carefully lift the brownie slab from the pan. Peel the foil from the bottom; set the slab right-side up on a cutting board. Cut into desired size. Can be frozen.
from Eating Well magazine, Jan/Feb 2007
November 29th, 2012
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Thanksgiving is done, the month is nearly over and December looms on the horizon. Holiday plans are in full swing, decorations are coming out of storage and right on schedule, the air turned cold and brisk. There’s not much snow yet. Only enough to change the landscape from late Fall to Winter, but enough to get everyone’s thoughts on the next big holiday activity; baking. While I do a fair amount of baking year round, during the holiday season, I make more cookies than any other time of the year.
These cookies are a classic combination; soft and luscious white chocolate with buttery, rich macadamia nuts. A terrific cookie for holiday baking, or any time of the year, really. Something about white chocolate, to me anyway, speaks of winter. Maybe it’s the resemblance to soft snow, the pristine look of it, the clean taste. Not all white chocolate is the same though; in the current edition of Saveur magazine, they did a huge taste test on white chocolates and came up with some of the best available. Thankfully, Ghiradelli white chocolate made the cut, as it’s the one that’s most readily available to me.
Every Christmas season for the past few years I’ve been blessed with a gift box from Oh! Nuts! for baking, or just decadent snacking. Oh! Nuts! has a full selection of premium dried fruits, chocolates, candy and high quality nuts for home cooks, as well as exquisite gift baskets for everyday or special occasions. Of all their products I have tasted over the years, I’ve never had anything less than stellar quality. I’m not one to purchase macadamia nuts all that often; once in a while I indulge in a small bag for ‘mouth therapy’, as they are one of the finest nuts ever that have crossed my tongue, but their price is often prohibitive, and a gift of them is wonderful. Macadamia nuts have the highest amount of monounsaturated fats of any of the nuts or seeds that we consume, and are a good source of a long list of minerals and vitamins. But go easy on them, as that fat content doesn’t come without a price, unless you use it’s oil on your skin. And don’t ever let your pup eat them; macadamia nuts are toxic to dogs.In these cookies, those rich nuts just shine. The buttery base aside, a crunch of the moist nut next to the vanilla-sweet bite of white chocolate is, as I already mentioned, a classic combination. Based on this recipe from Joy the Baker, the end result of this cookie is a moist and tender little mass of cookie goodness. These turned out so perfectly that I almost wanted to box up the entire batch and give them away as a means to prevent me from tip-toeing into a closet with the container and nibbling them to oblivion and a whopping belly ache. I don’t know what’s worse in terms of temptation; having a sack of macadamia nuts in the house, or these cookies.
Brown Butter White Chocolate
Macadamia Nut Cookies
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, don’t even think of using margarine, shortening or fake non-dairy butter
1 cup packed light or dark brown sugar
2 Tablespoons milk
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 coarsely chopped macadamia nuts
1 cup white chocolate chunks
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a medium saucepan melt the butter, swirling and stirring the butter until nicely browned bits appear in the bottom of the pan. This may take about 5-7 minutes. Once the butter is browned, remove pan from heat and set aside to cool a bit while you measure out the dry ingredients and set them aside.
In the bowl of a stand mixer add the brown sugar and slightly cooled butter. Beat on medium speed for about 2 minutes. Add egg and beat for one minute more. Add milk and vanilla extract and beat to incorporate.
Turn the mixer off, scrape down the sides of the bowl and add the dry ingredients all at once. With either the stand mixer on low, or by hand with a spatula, incorporate the dry ingredients until just mixed in. Fold in the chopped nuts and white chocolate chips.
Scoop two teaspoon sized balls onto a lined baking sheet. Bake for 9-11 minutes or until cookies are deliciously golden. Remove from oven and let rest of the baking sheet for 3 minutes before removing to a cooling rack.
Recipe reprinted verbatim from Joy the Baker
KATE’S NOTES:
The only process I changed in this was to add the white chocolate and the nuts when I added the flour. I find that folding in those extras at the end makes the dough too uneven. This spreads them out perfectly.
I did not brown the butter, as I’ve had some disasters with that process and have lost my mojo on it. I know. Sad, huh?
As it was, without that step these cookies still rocked.
As stated in the post, I used Ghirardelli white chocolate, a 4-oz bar and chopped up the entire thing, using every last shred.
I also added in way more than half a cup of chopped macadamia nuts because I’m a rebel like that.
And as if that isn’t enough, I used vanilla greek yogurt in place of the milk, mostly because I had a container of it that I didn’t want to eat. (ugh….don’t buy Dannon Light Greek yogurt. Bleah)
I think it contributed nicely to the very moist end result.
DISCLAIMER:
I was provided with the macadamia nuts free of charge as a gift.
No blog post was expected for the offering of this gift and all words and opinions in this post are solely my own.
November 26th, 2012
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This is one of my ‘tried and true’ recipes; the one to turn to for comfort and understanding that you know will never let you down. Not that I can’t find a million cookie recipes at the touch of my fingers, for cookies that look amazingly thick, decadent, and pillowy, with that perfect blend of crisp edges and soft interiors and I’m certain that they would be delightful and all, but there’s this thing about cookies and my taste for them; I don’t like to stretch myself all that much. I don’t need fancy in a cookie; I crave basic and and elementary. I might sub in a fancy ingredient, like good quality chocolate chunks for a bag of chocolate chips, but there’s a ceiling of cookie indulgence above me and it’s solidly in place. Give me a straightforward cookie, please.
These Sugar Cookies are perfect. They’re quietly uncomplicated, yet worthy in flavor of bringing back memories of a Sugar Cookie I loved as a child. I’ve passed this recipe on to many people and all the feedback I’ve had has been nothing short of glowing. Stellar all on their own, they accept decorative toppings in any form, making them a must for holiday cookie-making. You can scoop the dough or roll it out and use cookie cutters too. It freezes beautifully too, as do the finished cookies themselves.
Basic Sugar Cookies
1 c. softened butter, no substitutes (reserve one of the wrappers)
1-1/2 c. white sugar
2 t. pure vanilla extract
1 egg
2-3/4 c. AP flour
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. baking powder
Heat the oven to 375° and line two cookie sheets with parchment paper. Place about 1/3 of a cup of white sugar on a small plate and set aside.
Cream butter and the 1-1/2 cups of sugar together until very light and fluffy. Add in egg and vanilla extract and blend thoroughly until smooth and creamy. You really can’t overmix at this point. You want a base that is smooth and creamy as it makes the end result stupendous. Stir together flour, baking soda and powder, and with mixer on low, gradually add to butter until fully incorporated and mixture is in large, somewhat dry chunks. It will not be a smooth batter, but granular, like pie crust. The dough should hold together when pressed between your fingertips. If it doesn’t, give it a few more turns with the mixer. Here’s where you don’t want to mix more than necessary. The dough will come together when it bakes.
Using a small scoop (I used a #60 sized) press dough tight into a ball and drop onto cookie sheet. With your butter wrapper, wipe the bottom of a smooth glass, then dip the glass onto the sugar you’ve set aside. Gently press down on the cookie dough, dipping the glass before each one. If any dough falls loose, lightly push the pieces into the sides of the cookie. Bake for 8-10 minutes, reversing trays from front to back, and swapping top to bottom about halfway through. Allow to cool slightly on the sheet, then remove to a cooling rack.
KATE’S NOTES: I find that the super fine bakers sugar elevates the texture of these cookies quite a bit. You can mix up white and wheat flour if you wish, the end result will be darker though. I have substituted 1/2 c. of honey for the white sugar and love how tender it makes them.
November 23rd, 2012
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Magic October is gone, the artist’s palette splashed vibrant and rich, in every direction we looked. The season of brown replaced it, and the darkness falls predictably, knocking us backwards in to quieter evenings, thicker clothes, retrospection. Thanksgiving came as early this year as it possibly could; beginning on a mild note in the morning with temperatures near 60 degrees. By afternoon, the wind had stripped the mild weather away, and as dusk fell across countless laden tables of bounty, snowflakes began dropping from the sky, making photos like this nothing but a memory.
I’ve been cooking quite a bit, but not jotting down recipes, or taking much beyond a quick iPhone photo for my Instagram page. Then, I’m not sharing those on Instagram Friday anymore, either. In struggling with the whys of this blog, and trying to figure out a method to jump-start my creativity again, I came across this post from Jacqui that sent my heart scurrying. If there could be truer words spoken about what is in my mind in the moment -although there’s far less about tacos than in Jacqui’s- I don’t know where I’d find it. In brief bullets, she knocked one out of the park, and has left me questioning even more which direction my little corner here is going.
And it’s now way deep in November. I’ve watched in previous years of my life how this 11th month has silently bound me to suffocation in a dark melancholy, but in recent years have seen a more forgiving approach to the slow decline of natural light. Have you ever read this essay from Jeanette Winterson? It’s all about embracing winter darkness and appreciating what happens after the sun goes down.
“We have all experienced negative darkness – those long stretches of the night when we can’t sleep, and worry about everything, and so we know that “dark time” can seem interminably long, compared with daytime. Yet this slowing of time can be the most relaxing and beautiful experience. Spending the evening in candlelight, and maybe by the fire – with no TV – talking, telling stories, letting the lit-up world go by without us, expands the hours, and alters the thoughts and conversations we have.”
Since finding it many years ago, there has been much more to discover about darkness; and I realize that fighting the cold, the brown and the ennui that November brings only tends to make those aspects of it more pronounced. This November has been very kind; it’s been mild, warm even, and there have been days of ample sunshine that the cats love to bask in. Really, there wasn’t much to complain about with this 11th month.
But I was pleased to see the snowflakes yesterday. Crazy as it sounds, I’ve been impatient for real cold. For my cross country skis and sweaters and candlelight twinkling against windows reflecting pale apparitions of white. I’m a girl of seasons, born deep in my blood and others may find Winter contentious and difficult, but it will arrive with it’s own fury and grace regardless, and welcoming the season without fight is far less tiresome.
And this blog? Well, I’ve got some ideas planned for the next six weeks or so, a fun giveaway for my readers and some good old fashioned Christmas treats to share. And then…. poof! The blog, as we know it, will be gone and once again a Phoenix will rise from the ashes, hopefully by the time the first month of 2013 ends. I’m churning with ideas and plans and am quite excited to see how it all comes out on the other end.
So…. how about a recipe? A perfect one for this time of year, these Sweet Potato Biscuits are wonderful to nibble on with morning coffee, or as an amazing addition to any holiday table (I can only imagine how delicious these would be with turkey and stuffing….) They’re a cinch to make too. Who doesn’t love that?
Sweet Potato Biscuits
Yield: 12 to 15 biscuits
One 3/4-pound red-skinned sweet potato (yam), peeled, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 3/4 cups all purpose flour
1 tablespoon (packed) dark brown sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of cayenne pepper
8 tablespoons (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes, plus 2 tablespoons butter, melted
1/3 cup chilled buttermilk
Cook sweet potato in medium saucepan of boiling salted water until tender, 8 to 10 minutes. Drain, cool, and mash.
Position rack in lower third of oven; preheat to 425°F. Butter bottom and sides of 8- or 9-inch cast iron skillet (or 8- or 9-inch round cake pan).
Whisk flour and next 5 ingredients in large bowl. Add cubed butter to flour mixture; toss to coat and rub in with fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal. Whisk 3/4 cup mashed sweet potatoes and buttermilk in medium bowl. Add to flour mixture; toss with fork. Gather mixture in bowl, stirring gently until dough comes together. Using your fingers, press any remaining flour in to the dough, and gently turn it out in to the prepared pan, pressing it to fit. Score the biscuit dough in a pie wedge shape.
Brush tops with melted butter. Bake until puffed and golden on top and tester inserted into center biscuit comes out clean, about 22 minutes. Cool 10 minutes in pan. Turn biscuits out and gently pull them apart.
from The Kitchen Sink Recipes (and from Bon Appetit)
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