cookie baking

 

 

She spent 10 minutes making the cookies, 10 minutes scooping them out, and a solid 45 minutes placing each sprinkle in the correct place.

 

 

And I don't ever want to forget it.  

 

kitchen wedding shower

 

This is my friend Martha. Martha's getting married!

Martha and I worked together for several years, but we started hanging out after working a conference together in Montana. I flew into Billings at 2:00 a.m. after Chicago flubbed up a flight. I had no baggage, which meant no clothes, no toothbrush, no nothing. You'd think it couldn't get worse, BUT THEN IT DID.

They gave me a Prius.

With California plates.

While in Montana.

For the girl who flew in in cowboy boots and now had no luggage, this was just too much.

(Actually, the real "too much" was wandering around Walmart at 3:00 in the morning with sticky contacts trying to figure out what I needed to survive until my suitcase arrived.)

But actually actually, the legit "too much" was when Martha showed up in HER rental vehicle . . . a beautiful, shiny, chocolatey brown . . . F-150.

 

My Prius could have fit in the bed of her truck. I died a little inside.

So when Martha asked if I wanted to head to a rodeo after we were done with work that evening, I said, "That would be great! . . . But you're driving. We are not going to be seen in Montana in a car that is basically a glorified bicycle."

And we've been friends ever since!

 

Now she's about to get married and because Martha is the queen of gift giving, taking care of other people, making complete strangers feel special, and just generally filling up people's cups, it was obvious we needed to make her feel even just a tiny bit as loved as she makes the rest of us feel.

 

She loves to bake. Hand pies, cakes, cookies . . . you name it, and I've agreed to taste test it.

We made an apple pie together once. And by "made" I mean, she made an apple pie and I ate it and it was delicious.

We also made dozens of cookies for the guys at the dairy during silage . . . and I think I ate at least half of those. Let's just say there's no one better suited for kitchen gadgets and new pie plates than her!

 

Keeping in the kitchen vein, we ate muffins, oohed and aahed over Kel's Cookie Jar's kitchen-themed cookies, and indulged in peanut butter granola parfaits with cranberry spritzers to wash it all down.

And we all decided we needed new Tupperware and griddles and cookbooks too.

Or Martha could just use hers and make us all something delicious to eat while we sit around and chat. We're really pretty flexible.

But perhaps that's just the point: Salad bowls and salt and pepper shakers break and shatter.

And yet, as my pastor noted in our wedding sermon, "There is a promise for Holy Marriage that makes Christians bold and confident. Five virgins were shut out, but the other five, who also fell asleep, who also failed in their duties, who were no better than those shut out and were in no way perfect, went in. They went in by grace. This is not a vain hope – either for marriage or for eternity. The undeserved mercy won by Christ’s death gives power for Christians to live Christian lives. That includes living together as husband and wife – a most Christian way to live."

So here's to you, Martha and Dan, to a life of forgiveness, grace, love, cookies, pancakes and God's unending mercy.

And as long as we're at it, thanks for traipsing around in a small hurricane with me so that I could snap an engagement picture or two. And then, when you are 20 and 30 and 50 years down the road, remembering God's goodness to you and your marriage, you can look back and see how He has preserved you, blessed you . . . and how awesome pie birds and KitchenAid mixers really are.

 

Can we randomly talk about one thing I have been loving lately?

PS This has nothing to do with farming. Or cows. Or pumpkins even. I'm just so excited that pumpkins actually grew at our house that I have to show them off as long as possible, because it may never happen again. 

These might be squash-like unicorns right here. 

The Bigfoots of the fall world. 

The Loch Ness monsters of great pie fame. 

Are they supposed to be turning brown like that? I feel like that's not supposed to happen. 

Ok, don't look too close. 

AVERT YOUR EYES. 

Pumpkins? What pumpkins?

(The unicorns apparently aren't so perfect after all.)

Back to the point: I am loving how people are returning to making handmade goods they give as gifts. 

All you ladies who took part in the mug swap, I love that you are drawing upon your painting and handlettering and design skills, your cardmaking and cookie baking, your knitting and sewing and crocheting. 

I love that my mom sews baby clothes, my sisters bake amazing breads and sew adorable buntings, my mother-in-law cross stitches, and my sisters-in-law quilt table runners and stitch quiet books. 

I love that a new friend from the city brought me an embroidered tea towel she made herself in the midst of raising five children. 

And I love that a new friend from the country sent me a hand-quilted trivet she pieced together in her spare time as a busy mom of three and wife to an equally busy farmer. 

I love that seeing what each of these women make urges me on to do the same for others.

I love that we are slowing down and putting thought and care into our gifts as we are able. It's not for everyone, but for those who are good at it, who enjoy it, who give of themselves through the work of their hands, yes, I am loving that. 

So what am I making to give as gifts? I'm so glad you asked because . . .

You're all getting pumpkins for Christmas this year!

(Hey, I planted them, pulled the weeds, watered them. That counts as handmade in my world. No? Not buying it? Well, shoot. Back to the drawing board . . . )

Whether you're stitching or baking, sewing or knitting, stamping or carving, painting or drawing, thank you. You restore -- piece by piece -- my faith that there are gifts that will be passed down, not perhaps because they are the most impressive or expensive, but because someone took the care, the time. 

Here's to the work of our hands, to unique Christmas and birthday gifts, to crafting flops and baking successes, to laughter and awe, to making something for someone because he matters, because she will truly appreciate it. Here's to you!

What are you making right now? 

thanksgiving 2016

I'll never forget the Thanksgiving that I woke up and realized my left eye was swollen to the size of a ping pong ball and people from church were coming over for the meal. 

Ahh. 

Memories. 

     

 This year, my farmer and I hosted Thanksgiving for the first time. We felt like grown-ups.

And none of our eyeballs were swollen.

I'd consider that a success.

As a child, I spent a fair amount of Thanksgivings watching my mom whip up delicious meals in her red kitchen or staying out of my grandma's way while she made dish after dish after dish. It was like the food never stopped coming when it came to either one of them. 

One of my grandma's staples, and a favorite of mine because we never had it at home, was creamed corn. I was convinced no one could make it like my grandma could. 

Until one Thanksgiving I saw her pouring creamed corn out of a can. 

OUT OF A CAN. My world was upended.

I had no idea such deliciousness could just be gotten at the grocery store. It changed everything. 

So what we've learned thus far is this . . . normal-sized eyes and creamed corn: It doesn't take much to keep me happy. 

Beforehand we had wine and a charcuterie board with salami and Vermont cheddar and olives and goat cheese.  

We also nibbled on a new tradition: the Thanksgiving pumpkin cheeseball.

And by "tradition," I mean this is the second year I've made it. Does that make it an annual cheeseball now?

And really, isn't the goal of any appetizer just to hold your guests over long enough so that you can finish the rest of the meal? 

Or try to salvage the turkey if you wrecked it?

Both maybe?

    

Thankfully, these appetizers were just for fun. Once we prayed, we started passing the good stuff.

We started with a spinach and pear and pomegranate salad, mashed potatoes and gravy, and creamed corn.

Not the can kind.

The kind that involved three sticks of butter and two cream cheeses.

Sorry, arteries.

My farmer did a bang-up job of cooking an Alton Brown-approved turkey, and our dogs though the neck and the carcass were the best Thanksgiving feast they'd ever had.

So everyone came away a winner on that front.

We also had butternut squash and cranberries with honey and cinnamon and feta . . . and some sweet potatoes from our garden thrown in for good measure. 

It was like farm to table . . . except we were still on the farm so . . . farm to farm?

Did I mention the turkey was super moist? Alton Brown's theory is to go high heat--as in, 500--for a short time to basically sear the skin and hold all the juice in. And it worked. 

We had a cranberry-walnut-apple salad, green beans wrapped in bacon, stuffing, rolls and pumpkin cornbread, deviled eggs, a heart attack. 

Whoops. How'd that last one sneak in there? 

And maybe don't ask me if I got juice from the cranberries and apples all over the front of my cupboards--the night before Thanksgiving--while I was grinding the two in my KitchenAid.

Because I totally didn't. Not at all. 

I didn't even contemplate sitting down on the floor and crying. Not even for a second. 

I'm also a really bad liar.  

We moved past the cranberry and apple juice incident by eating delicious desserts, because when you've eaten your allowable caloric intake by the time you get through the mashed potatoes and pumpkin cornbread, why not go for the gold?

We had a hot cocoa bar, even though we were basically all so stuffed at that point that the thought of more decadent calories made us want to . . . well . . . let's just say we were full. 

    

We also gorged ourselves on slices of pecan and pumpkin pie, chewy brownies with hunks of dark chocolate, and a salted caramel pumpkin cheesecake, which the recipe swore wouldn't develop a crack if I left the oven door closed for an hour and a half after baking. 

It promised. 

IT LIES. 

But better than all of that, we gave thanks for one another, learned more about our family traditions, and even managed to talk theology and the election . . . and no one slung mashed potatoes or flipped the table or tossed a glass of wine . . . or went home with a bugged out eyeball. 

Sometimes, even on Thanksgiving, it's the little things.

eggplant parmigiana | dairy

One of these days, November is actually going to get semi-cold. And when that happens, I'm going to indulge in comfort food and not feel the least bit bad about it. For now, we're eating eggplant parmigiana, which is a close second.

But just as soon as there's frost on the ground . . . 

Mashed potatoes? I'm in. 

Chicken pot pie? Sign me up. 

Chicken tettrazini? I'm so there. 

      

When I lived in St. Louis, I'd treat myself to one of those KFC Famous Bowls of deliciousness now then, the one with mashed potatoes and fried chicken and corn. I mean, I always got gut rot afterward, but just as soon as it's freezing outside, I'm recreating that bad boy. 

In the meantime, how about some eggplant parmigiana? That's healthy-ish, right? It's filled with cheese (yay, dairy!) and eggs and veggies. Ok, so it's at least better for you than the KFC Bowl of Unnecessary Calories. 

Look at all that cheese. 

Mozzarella. 

Parmesan. 

Provolone. 

It's almost better than my mom's famous nachos: Doritos covered in cheddar and pepper jack! 

Almost. 

Speaking of cheese, we interrupt this recipe to bring you Dorothy Lynch, dairy champion.  

Well, she's at least a relative to good old DL anyway.

Basically any slightly reddish, brownish cow is a Dorothy Lynch in my world. 

Also, please tell me you knew that was a salad dressing?

The days of mashed potatoes and pasta are coming. But until then, we're slicing up the eggplant, chopping up the salad, tipping our hats to Dorothy Lynch and enjoying these golden days of November.

But don't think we don't see you, KFC Bowls.

We do.

Boy, do we.

Eggplant Parmigiana

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 3 medium yellow onions, sliced
• 6 cloves garlic
• 1 tablespoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 3 28-oz. cans plum tomatoes
• 2 medium eggplant, cut 1/2-inch thick
• 1/2 cup flour
• 5 eggs
• 3 tablespoons milk
• 4 cups Italian breadcrumbs
• 1 tablespoon oregon
• 1 tablespoon thyme
• 1 1/2 lbs. mozzarella cheese
• 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
• 1 lb. provolone cheese
• 1 tablespoon sugar

Cooking Directions

1. Sauce: Heat olive oil. Add onion, garlic, salt and red pepper flakes. Cook 3-5 minutes. Add sugar and tomatoes. Cook 15 minutes.
2. Eggplant: Arrange in a single layer on baking sheets. Sprinkle both sides with salt. Sit 1 hour. Rinse with cold water. Pat dry.
3. Heat oil. Fry eggplant. Drain on paper towel. Lightly salt.
4. Layer sauce, eggplant and cheese.
5. Bake at 350 for 35-40 minutes.

winter babies

Good things about being pregnant in the winter: 

(1) You have no desire to be outside in the cold, so hunkering down is not a problem.

 

(2) A few extra pounds help keep you warm. No need for sweaters!

(3) When your husband brings you donuts, I mean, you HAVE to eat one because he went out in the snow to get them for crying outloud! It's basically your wifely duty. 

On the flip side, it also means that: 

(1) You act on your ultimate language: eating carbs. Maybe a little too much. 

Ahem. 

(2) It gets dark out early . . . because it's winter. And when baby needs to get up to eat every couple of hours, the night seems awfully long.

(3) You have no desire to leave the house. Who needs milk or fruit anyway? 

On the other hand (does this mean we're back to the first side of the hand? I'm confused.): 

(1) Babies are little heaters. And it doesn't matter how awesome Walmart or Amazon are. They don't sell snuggly, sweet-smelling little heat generators. 

(2) Heating up the kitchen by baking bread is virtually a necessity. A happy mama -- because who doesn't perk up when there's warm, fresh bread on the counter? -- means a happy baby. Get that flour and yeast out!

(3) Spring is on its way. And just when baby is starting to notice what's going on in the world, you can head outside for long walks, fresh air and sunshine!

At least, that's what we're telling ourselves. 

Bake the bread. Get out the jam. Tickle the baby. Don't fret too much if you pack on an extra carb or two. 

Winter won't last forever . . . and neither will those baby snuggles!

Easy Artisan Bread 

3 cups warm water

1 T. instant yeast

2 1/2 tsp. salt

3 1/2 c. whole wheat flour

3 c. flour

Mix yeast and salt. Add water. 

Add flour and mix well. 

Cover with a towel or plastic wrap and let sit someplace warm (or at least room temperature) for 1 1/2 hours. 

Store in the refrigerator for a week or bake immediately. 

If baking, head enamel dutch oven and lid in oven at 450 degrees. 

Lightly dust dough with flour. Cut off amount of dough you desire to bake and shape into a ball. Place on parchment paper-covered cookie sheet and let sit for 30 minutes. 

Cut the top of the dough with serrated knife and transfer dough to dutch oven, including parchment paper. 

Bake for 15-17 minutes covered. 

Remove lid and bake for another 15-17 minutes until loaf is golden brown. 

bring on the sprinkles: cake donuts

Merry fifth day of Christmas! While Wal-Mart is busy setting up its Valentine's Day displays, we're still Christmasing over here . . . all the way to Epiphany on January 6. 

But seriously. Wal-Mart employees were putting out Valentine's Day candy ON CHRISTMAS EVE. What the what? 

We're celebrating Christmas with donuts . . . delicious, carby donuts . . . which are at the very core of all my family holds dear.  Every now and then, on the way home from church, my dad would stop at Casey's, give one of us girls money and send us inside to get everyone a donut.

The only hitch was that we had to count the leftover change back to my dad before we could eat our delicious, sprinkled, glazed, cakey donuts. And for someone who stunk at math, that could mean the difference between the amount of seconds it took to shove a piece of a donut in my mouth and minutes. 

  

It was usually minutes. 

Sigh. 

You know me and math. 

Thanks to the kind Christmas gift of a donut pan from my mom, however, I can now eat donuts any time of the day or night. I don't have to wait until Sunday. Or even share with my sisters!

Unless it's National Donut Day. Then maybe. For old times' sake. 

While donuts from Casey's on Sundays after church will always taste special for a reason, these glazed cake donuts come pretty darn close.

No change counting required! 

Cake Donuts

2 cups flour

3/4 cup white sugar

2 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon

1 tsp. salt

3/4 c. milk

2 eggs, beaten

1 tsp. vanilla

1 T. shortening

Icing 

1 c. powdered sugar

2 T. hot water

1/2 tsp. almond extract 

1. Set oven to 325 degrees. Lightly grease a donut pan. 

2. Mix flour, baking powder, sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon and salt. Stir in milk, eggs, vanilla and shortening, and beat until well blended. 

3. Fill your donuts cups 3/4 of the way with batter. Bake donuts for 8-10 minutes or until the donuts spring back when touched. 

4. Allow donuts to cool before removing from the pan. 

5. To make the icing/glaze, blend together powdered sugar, almond extract and hot water. Dip donuts into glaze, and serve. 

** I'd recommend using 1/4 tsp. almond extract. Using 1/2 tsp. was almost a little overpowering!