I've been reading other people's posts about New Year's traditions, including black-eyed peas, greens, pork, sauerkraut, and others. In my family, we have no particular tradition, though New Year's Eve usually calls for another round of Taco Soup or for a generic collection of party food.
New Year's has been pretty quiet for us this year. We got together with friends for an early supper of Papa Murphy's pizza last night before the toddlers forced us all apart at bedtime. We managed to make it to about 10:30 and then rolled over at midnight when the fireworks went off in the street. Thankfully, the toddler didn't seem to be disturbed.
This morning we spent in the offices, preparing for the rush of January term that begins tomorrow (!), and this afternoon we came home for naps and for me to nurse a cold that I hope is at its worst and will be shortly improving (see aforementioned rush of January term).
But I still wanted to mark the holiday somehow with food, even if not traditional. Compiling a few of the traditions mentioned above, we had egg scramble with ham, mushrooms, and kale for lunch (pork and greens) and will have Green Chile Stew for dinner tonight (also because I saw a picture of snowy Santa Fe in this morning's newspaper, and it made me a little wistful for the two years I spent there).
And now that everyone else is napping, I decided I needed something to go with my afternoon tea, so spice cookies are in the oven. We'll see if any of them make it over to the neighbor who shoveled our driveway while we were away.
It's not traditional, perhaps, but on a cold and grey January day, a little spice is called for.
Happy New Year!
---
Green Chile Stew
1 onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic
pork roast (I use pork tenderloin, about 2 lbs.)
(I cook mine whole and shred or cube later, since loin can dry out so easily; if you use pork
butt/shoulder, you could cube it before cooking)
6-8 whole green chiles, roasted and peeled (mine are frozen from summer) or 2-3 small cans of green chile
1 1/2 lbs. potatoes (I had baby yukon golds)
Salt and pepper the pork to taste. Combine everything in the slow cooker on high for 4 hours. Cube or shred pork prior to serving.
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Spice Cookies
1/2 C. Butter
1 1/3 C. Brown Sugar
2 C. flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. ginger
1/2 tsp. cardamom
1/4 tsp. cloves
1/4 tsp. black pepper
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1/4-1/3 C. water
Cream butter and sugar; add dry ingredients (through pepper) and combine as thoroughly as you can (mixture will be quite dry). Add vanilla and water (1-2 Tb. at a time) until mixture comes together. Form into balls and press lightly onto baking sheet. Bake at 375 for 10-12 minutes. Cool slightly on sheets and then remove to racks. Don't overbake.
Showing posts with label Cookies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cookies. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Monday, October 29, 2012
Church Cookbooks
Yesterday was a potluck at church--a celebration for Reformation Sunday, new members, and some recently married couples all rolled into one.
Have I mentioned that I love potluck? And church potlucks are my favorite.
I have fond recollections of dinners from my childhood in the Beech Wing Fellowship Hall with its grey asbestos tile floors and the cold, testy, noisy folding chairs. I remember the church family of my childhood in part through the dishes they could be depended upon to bring to potluck. Dishes that even seemed exotic to me (deviled eggs, casseroles with corn chips on top, and homemade baked beans).
Okay, so my childhood definition of exotic is weak, but I still look forward to sharing other people's cooking at church potluck. It helps that our congregation now has at least four or five folks who can be relied upon to bring homemade baked beans--and they're all good.
And when it's my turn to think of what to prepare for potluck, I consider what I have on hand (since the project seems counter to actually buying special ingredients for some reason) and what might be both like enough and different enough to find some space on the communal folding table.
For this potluck, I turned to one of my church cookbooks--an archive of church potlucks, if you will. This one, in particular, is my favorite: a treasure from Grandma B.'s church. It's a second edition, with the 1967 recipes included among the 1992 recipes. My copy is also amended by Grandma B. to include a few more recipes particular to the family that weren't included for the congregation. I love paging through to find the ones she included--some I wasn't even familiar with--and I also love recognizing the familiar names of her good friends. She and Grandpa B. missed being charter members of that congregation by only a matter of months, Dad told me, and she was a faithful and active there for the rest of her life.
One of my favorites out of this particular cookbook has none of the sentimental attachments of family or friendships. It's a 1992 recipe submitted by a family whose name I don't recognize. It has become one of my staples, both for potlucks and for other occasions, though; it's also a handy recipe for a dessert that doesn't require eggs. (Yes, I have a few cookie and bar recipes filed away that fill in otherwise hard-to-fill requirements that occasionally arise. For example, this is also one that can be made vegan by substituting margarine for the butter.)
---
Oatmeal Jam Bars
1 C. butter, melted
1 C. brown sugar, packed
1 1/2 C. flour
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
3 C. oatmeal
Combine butter and brown sugar, thoroughly mix in dry ingredients, and combine oatmeal until thoroughly incorporated. Press 2/3 of the mixture in a greased 9x13 pan, top with 5 oz. of jam (strawberry is usually what I have on hand, but apricot is also quite good) whisked with 1/4 C. warm water, and crumble the remaining oatmeal mixture over the top. Bake at 400 degrees for 25-30 minutes, until thoroughly browned. Cool thoroughly before cutting, otherwise the bars tend to crumble.
Have I mentioned that I love potluck? And church potlucks are my favorite.
I have fond recollections of dinners from my childhood in the Beech Wing Fellowship Hall with its grey asbestos tile floors and the cold, testy, noisy folding chairs. I remember the church family of my childhood in part through the dishes they could be depended upon to bring to potluck. Dishes that even seemed exotic to me (deviled eggs, casseroles with corn chips on top, and homemade baked beans).
Okay, so my childhood definition of exotic is weak, but I still look forward to sharing other people's cooking at church potluck. It helps that our congregation now has at least four or five folks who can be relied upon to bring homemade baked beans--and they're all good.
And when it's my turn to think of what to prepare for potluck, I consider what I have on hand (since the project seems counter to actually buying special ingredients for some reason) and what might be both like enough and different enough to find some space on the communal folding table.
For this potluck, I turned to one of my church cookbooks--an archive of church potlucks, if you will. This one, in particular, is my favorite: a treasure from Grandma B.'s church. It's a second edition, with the 1967 recipes included among the 1992 recipes. My copy is also amended by Grandma B. to include a few more recipes particular to the family that weren't included for the congregation. I love paging through to find the ones she included--some I wasn't even familiar with--and I also love recognizing the familiar names of her good friends. She and Grandpa B. missed being charter members of that congregation by only a matter of months, Dad told me, and she was a faithful and active there for the rest of her life.
One of my favorites out of this particular cookbook has none of the sentimental attachments of family or friendships. It's a 1992 recipe submitted by a family whose name I don't recognize. It has become one of my staples, both for potlucks and for other occasions, though; it's also a handy recipe for a dessert that doesn't require eggs. (Yes, I have a few cookie and bar recipes filed away that fill in otherwise hard-to-fill requirements that occasionally arise. For example, this is also one that can be made vegan by substituting margarine for the butter.)
---
Oatmeal Jam Bars
1 C. butter, melted
1 C. brown sugar, packed
1 1/2 C. flour
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
3 C. oatmeal
Combine butter and brown sugar, thoroughly mix in dry ingredients, and combine oatmeal until thoroughly incorporated. Press 2/3 of the mixture in a greased 9x13 pan, top with 5 oz. of jam (strawberry is usually what I have on hand, but apricot is also quite good) whisked with 1/4 C. warm water, and crumble the remaining oatmeal mixture over the top. Bake at 400 degrees for 25-30 minutes, until thoroughly browned. Cool thoroughly before cutting, otherwise the bars tend to crumble.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Housekeeping
Headed out of town soon, I've got housekeeping on the mind. A stack of bills to pay, a leaking faucet, and more dust in the new place than the old one (at least more dust that I'm noticing). Is it the carpet?
I brought a batch and a half of Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies to church yesterday, though, packed in freezer bags, as my contribution to the VBS that will be happening while we're gone. With the leftover bars from Orpha's funeral, we may have enough cookies at church to see us through to the fall.
There's more of a story to tell about these than I have time for today, but for the sake of brevity I'll only say that this recipe is scribbled on the back of a torn envelope (a remant of another pile of bills from a housekeeping day years ago). I had sudden need of them, and I called Mom to get the recipe I had lost or had never managed to bring along once I left home.
When I 'fessed up to her that I had been without the recipe--for years, at this point--she asked, "How are you managing to keep house without them?"
How, indeed, my husband also asked--since I had been without the recipe for as long as I had known him.
They're my staple now: my go-to cookie for all occasions. And I've got the recipe memorized, but I keep the torn and scribbled envelope in the recipe box, just in case.
Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies
1 C. butter
2/3 C. brown sugar
2/3 C. white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
2 Tb. water
1 1/2 C. flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
3 C. oatmeal (I use old fashioned rolled; quick oats are too mushy for my taste)
1 12-oz. bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips
Bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes
I brought a batch and a half of Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies to church yesterday, though, packed in freezer bags, as my contribution to the VBS that will be happening while we're gone. With the leftover bars from Orpha's funeral, we may have enough cookies at church to see us through to the fall.
There's more of a story to tell about these than I have time for today, but for the sake of brevity I'll only say that this recipe is scribbled on the back of a torn envelope (a remant of another pile of bills from a housekeeping day years ago). I had sudden need of them, and I called Mom to get the recipe I had lost or had never managed to bring along once I left home.
When I 'fessed up to her that I had been without the recipe--for years, at this point--she asked, "How are you managing to keep house without them?"
How, indeed, my husband also asked--since I had been without the recipe for as long as I had known him.
They're my staple now: my go-to cookie for all occasions. And I've got the recipe memorized, but I keep the torn and scribbled envelope in the recipe box, just in case.
Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies
1 C. butter
2/3 C. brown sugar
2/3 C. white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
2 Tb. water
1 1/2 C. flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
3 C. oatmeal (I use old fashioned rolled; quick oats are too mushy for my taste)
1 12-oz. bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips
Bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes
Friday, July 27, 2012
Bars for Orpha
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday.
It's not enough. In a situation like this, nothing is enough.
But I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday as my own way of living out the hospitality and grace Orpha radiated in her whole life.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday as a way of honoring a woman who constantly reached out her hand to others.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday because I'm still a young(ish) church lady, and I want to grow up to be an old church lady someday.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday since mourning the dead also means feeding the living.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday in the hope that they might taste something like the sweetness of a life well-lived.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday that will mark us with slightly greasy fingers and the crumbs of community.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday because the resurrection is coming, and it will be a feast.
I'll be bringing bars then, too.
Straight out of Betty Crocker's Cookie Book (1986 edition):
Butterscotch Brownies
1/4 cup shortening or vegetable oil
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup chopped nuts
It's not enough. In a situation like this, nothing is enough.
But I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday as my own way of living out the hospitality and grace Orpha radiated in her whole life.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday as a way of honoring a woman who constantly reached out her hand to others.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday because I'm still a young(ish) church lady, and I want to grow up to be an old church lady someday.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday since mourning the dead also means feeding the living.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday in the hope that they might taste something like the sweetness of a life well-lived.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday that will mark us with slightly greasy fingers and the crumbs of community.
I'll be bringing bars for Orpha's funeral on Saturday because the resurrection is coming, and it will be a feast.
I'll be bringing bars then, too.
---
Straight out of Betty Crocker's Cookie Book (1986 edition):
Butterscotch Brownies
1/4 cup shortening or vegetable oil
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup chopped nuts
As I'll actually make them:
1/2 C. canola oil
2 C. packed light brown sugar
2 eggs
2+ tsp. vanilla
1 2/3+ C. flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 tsp. salt
no nuts (at a potluck gathering, you never know who'll have an allergy)
Bake at 350 in a greased (liberally cooking sprayed)
10x15 glass dish for 25 minutes until largely set.
As with any brownies, the cardinal rule is Do Not Overbake.
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