There Will Be Blood

March 17, 2011
(A note to my readers: for some reason WordPress is not letting me put spaces between my paragraphs.  I hope you can suffer through and enjoy my post anyway.)
As I have recently been getting back to my cooking roots, I thought it was about time I shared a recipe with you that I think of as a Heather Classic: apple pie.  I have been making this recipe since Chris and I started dating, and there is a long, storied history of him hiding the pie from his friends in his room.
Anyway, although Kate did begin our however-formal cooking lessons by asking me what I liked to eat, she did teach me a few things beforehand.  She cooked and baked a lot, and I’m sure it was nice for her to have a helping hand and/or someone to boss around.  (Have I mentioned how I follow instructions like a champ?)
From what I remember, the first thing I ever really made with her was pumpkin pie.  I was really excited until I discovered that I didn’t like pumpkin pie. And my family didn’t like pumpkin pie.  That first pie of mine went uneaten, as I recall.  No matter!  This second pie that I learned how to make more than makes up for it.  Before this was a Heather Classic, this was a Kate Classic (although she kindly told me that I made it better than she did).  This recipe was one of those well-worn, beloved recipes before I even got involved.
Needless to say, having mastered cooking something that I enjoyed eating and that other people enjoyed eating too, I beemed with pride and was determined to woo the object of my affection with it.  One weekend during the Fall of my junior year, I went apple picking with a bunch of my friends.  Determined to show Chris what a catch he had in me, I promised to make him my very special apple pie from the apples I picked, and I even made arrangements for him to watch my prowess in the kitchen as I did it.
Well, as most college kids do at some point, I may have had a few alcoholic beverages the night before the big pie-making demonstration.  And when I was nervous and excited and getting butterflies because Chris was watching me chop apples for his pie, the knife slipped and cut my finger kind of badly.  Did you know that when you have alcohol in your system your blood doesn’t clot as well? I sure didn’t, but I did know that for some reason I was bleeding a lot.  And everywhere.  I tried to act cool about it while still finishing Chris’ pie and keeping in blood-free.  I don’t think Chris was fooled by my calmness, though.  In retrospect, this is probably why he doesn’t come talk to me while I’m cooking.
Anyway, should you choose to make this pie (which I hope you will), just remember to be careful when you’re cutting the apples.
And maybe don’t drink the night before.

Apple Pie
adapted from Kate Hudkins

Let’s talk about pie crust for a second.  Kate says that she has made homemade pie crust and doesn’t feel it’s worth the effort, and I made this pie for a long time with store-bought dough.  I, however, do feel like it’s worth the effort (and not just because I enjoy eating the dough scraps).  You may recall that I posted a pie crust recipe before, but after some serious soul-searching I’ve come to the conclusion that an all-butter crust really is the way to go (and, no, not just because it’s tastier to snack on).  Maybe pie crust is a highly personal thing.  Whatever your own decision is, though, I’m sure your pie will be delicious.  One final note: don’t be scared by the lemon zest.  I find it’s a nice bright-zingy quality to the pie, but your pie will not suffer if you leave it out.

For the crust:
1 cup cold unsalted butter, cubed
2 cups flour
1 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
1/4 ice water

For the filling:
6-8 apples, McIntosh or Empire tend to be best
1/4 cup flour
3/4 cup sugar
2 Tbsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
pinch of salt
1 tsp lemon zest
1 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp milk (optional)
sugar for sprinkling (optional)

To make the crust:

  1. Add the flour, sugar, and salt to the bowl of a food processor.  Pulse until combined.  (You can also do this by hand, but it will take a little longer.)
  2. Add the cold, cubed butter to the food processor and pulse until the butter is well-incorporated and roughly the size of peas.
  3. With the bowl running, slowly add in the ice water until the mixture forms into a ball.  You may not need the whole amount or you may need more.  Keep your eye on it: you want it to come into a ball, but you don’t want the ball to feel wet to the touch.  (Is that clear enough?)
  4. Remove the dough from the food processor, and divide half.  Form the halves into balls, flatten them, and put them in the fridge for at least 30 minutes. (I like to put mine in Ziploc bags.)

To make the filling:

  1. Peel, core, and slice the apples into roughly 1/4″ thick slices.
  2. In a large bowl, combine the apples, flour, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and lemon zest.
  3. Optional: let the mixture sit for about 30 minutes.  This draws some of the moisture out of the apples and makes for a less wet pie.

Assemble the pie:

  1. Roll each of the dough discs out on a floured surface until they’re roughly 13″ circles.  Place one into a 9″ pie plate and trim the excess from the edges.  You want to leave an overhang of about 3/4″, however.
  2. Place the filling in the pie plate.  Chop the tablespoon of butter into 5-8 chunks and scatter around the top of the filling (you’re going to have to trust me, er, Kate on this one).
  3. Place the other half of dough on top.  Trim so that the edges are even with the edges of the bottom crust.  Seal the pie either using a fork and pressing down or creating a scalloped edge by pinching the edges all the way around with your fingers.
  4. Optional: coat the top of the pie with the tablespoon of milk and sprinkle sugar over top.
  5. Bake the pie at 450 for 15 minutes.  Then reduce the heat to 350 and bake for another 45 minutes.  (Note: if the edges look like they’re getting burnt at any point, you may want to cover them with foil.  It’s also a good idea to bake the pie on a cookie sheet, just in case there are any leaks.)

Macaroni and Plastic Surgery

March 10, 2011
Because Chris has many school obligations that keep him busy in the evenings, I have made a new best friend.  That best friend’s name is Netflix.  Although I am vaguely aware that Netflix has movies, I use it almost exclusively to watch TV shows.  I have now watched several episodes (if not seasons) of The Wire, 30 Rock, Lie To Me, Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: Criminal Intent, Nip/Tuck, Friday Night Lights, and numerous other shows that I might not admit to people who I want to think I’m cool (um, Drop Dead Diva, anyone?).  It has been awesome, and I’ll thank you in advance for not telling me that I should find more people-friends.
 
Although Nip/Tuck made me feel squeemish (I learned that I don’t enjoy watching someone get butt implants), something about it did strike me.  That ever-present prompt: “Tell me what you don’t like about yourself”
 
This didn’t strike me because I have a list of all of my perceived short-comings at the ready, but because it reminded me of a question that spurred my love of cooking: “Tell me what you like to eat.”
 
I’ll admit it: sometimes I get bogged down in all of my meal-planning spreadsheets, trying not to repeat meals, trying to make new things, reminding myself that I’ll have to go through the whole exercise again in a week because apparently people need to eat on a consistent basis.  It’s easy to forget what made cooking so exciting in the first place.  And that’s exactly what my kitchen mentor, Kate, knew: people feel good when they can make foods that they like.
 
At our Superbowl party this year, one of our guests mentioned that she really wished she could bring macaroni and cheese because she loves it but didn’t know how to make it–except for out of a box.  The solution was easy, I told her, just come a few minutes early, and I’d be happy to teach her.
 
Even though my student may have been slightly more interested in drinking her champagne (what? we can serve whatever drinks we want at our Superbowl parties) than actually being instructed, when she had the first bite of “our” creation, I could see how happy she was.  And the fact that she bragged about her dish to everyone else in attendance made me feel pretty good, too.  And, if you try this recipe, I can promise that you’ll feel really good about it.
 
Macaroni and Cheese
adapted from Southern Living
 
Macaroni and cheese is a comfort food staple that can sometimes dissapoint.  Sometimes it’s too gritty, too heavy, too cheesy, too gloppy, too stiff or just somehow not right.  I can assure you that this macaroni and cheese is perfect.  Gooey and cheesy with a firm, bubbly top.  It’s the stuff you remember from your childhood.  You can also play around with different cheeses (gruyere?), toppings (bread crumbs!) or mix-ins (vegetables….or bacon).  Whatever you do, though, I’m going to have to insist that you grate your own cheese.  Pre-grated cheese is typically coated in cornstarch, which prevents you from getting that dreamy, gooey, melted cheese texture.
 
8oz elbow macaroni
2 Tbsp unsalted butter
2 Tbsp flour
2 cups milk (the fattier the better, if we’re being honest)
10 oz sharp cheddar cheese, grated
5 oz extra-sharp cheddar cheese, grated
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
1/4 tsp paprika (optional)
1/4 tsp garlic powder (optional)
 
  1. Preheat the oven to 375.
  2. Cook the macaroni according to package instructions.  Drain and set aside.
  3. In a sauce-pan, melt the butter over medium heat.  Once the butter is melted, add the flour and stir until combined.  (Don’t be alarmed if the mixture is clumpy; that’s how it’s supposed to look.)  Let the mixture cook for about 30 seconds.
  4. Add the milk slowly, stirring as you add (this will prevent any clumps).  Keep stirring and cooking until the mixture is thickened, about 5-8 minutes.
  5. Add the salt, pepper, paprika, and garlic powder (if using). Then, add about 3/4 of the cheese to the warm milk mixture.  Stir until cheese is completely melted.
  6. Combine the cooked pasta and the cheese sauce in a large, greased casserole dish.  Sprinkle the remaining cheese evenly across the top.
  7. Bake, uncovered, for 15-20 minutes, or until the top is golden and bubbly.
  8. Let stand for 10-15 minutes before serving.
 
 

Behind the Scenes

March 3, 2011
I’m not going to lie: it feels good to be back.  Before I get back to “business as usual,”  I just wanted to let you know that, well…I actually won’t be going back to “business as usual.”  There are going to be some changes, and I thought that you, my dear readers, deserved to know what they will be.
 
First of all, as much as I wish I could post every day, I’m not going to be able to.  What can I say?  My Texan life is filled with things like twelve-hour work days, a newly found Netflix addiction, and actually enjoying being outdoors most of the year.  My goal is going to be to post once or twice a week.  I’m also not going to write about my running anymore.  Running is hard but can also be rewarding.  But mostly it’s hard.  Honestly?  How many times do you want to hear me write about my love/hate relationship with it?  Wouldn’t you much rather read about gooey delicious apple pie and how I almost seriously injured myself making one? 
 
I will say this, though, I signed up to run the Marine Corps Marathon in DC this coming October.  I am mostly very excited about it punctuated with severe panic attacks.  I may or may not talk about my training when I talk about my recipes, but I always welcome any support that you have to offer.
 
As I said mentioned in my last post, things change.  I’m hoping you’ll be willing to stick with me as my blog changes and evolves.  I have some tasty treats in mind for the near future.

The More Things Change

February 22, 2011

A lot has changed since I last posted here, and I have seriously debated whether or not to take the blog back up again.  But it seems I have a group of rabid fans who demand my return–or at least one rabid fan who does (Hi Evan!)–so here I am.

What exactly has changed?  Well, I am no longer someone who says I live in DC, even though I actually live in Northern Virginia.  I now live in Texas, and–even worse (or better?)–I might almost be an actual Texan: I have been to a rodeo, learned to shoot a gun, and almost use the word “y’all” in a conversation.  I have been introduced to the joys of car ownership and have the pleasure of paying for gas and dealing with cracked windshields.  I have not had to walk anywhere in six months.  I have my very own secretary.  And people who were previously envious of Chris’ lifestyle may not be pleased to learn that I am also officially his sugar mama now that he’s back in school.

You might think I’m a totally changed girl, but I can assure you that’s not the case.  I still enjoy talking about working out more than I enjoy actually doing it, and I still think about food.  I still think about it pretty much all the time.  I still plan meals for the week in advance (using a spreadsheet!) and carefully construct my grocery list.  And it’s still the case that if someone tells me they don’t eat breakfast, I will make something for them…and I might even mail it to them from Texas.  But I will not use “y’all” on the card that accompanies it….well, at least not yet.

Biscotti
borrowed from Smitten Kitchen

My friend Tim told me that he recently took up drinking coffee, and he thought biscotti would be the perfect complement to a freshly brewed cup.  When he asked me for a recipe, I told him that I would certainly send him one–along with a box of Heather-made biscotti.  Now that I think about it, I’m not totally convinced that he didn’t just want me to make him biscotti all along.  I’m ok with that, though.  I can just tell myself that I have nation-wide (half nation-wide?) appeal now.

Anyway, these biscotti are everything they should be: delightfully crunchy and toasty and begging to be dipped in a beverage.  And, because they’re so crunchy, they don’t go stale for well over a week–if they even last that long.

3 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/3 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups sugar
10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, melted
3 large eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 tablespoon orange liqueur
1 tablespoon orange zest
1 cup whole almonds, toasted, coarsely chopped or sliced almonds

1 large egg white

  1. Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F. Line baking sheet with parchment paper. Sift flour, baking powder and salt into medium bowl. Mix sugar, melted butter, 3 eggs, vanilla extract, orange liquer and zest in large bowl. Add flour mixture to egg mixture and stir with wooden spoon until well blended. Mix in almonds.
  2. Divide dough in half. Using floured hands, shape each dough half into 13 1/2-inch-long, 2 1/2-inch-wide log. Transfer both logs to prepared baking sheet, spacing apart. Whisk egg white in small bowl until foamy; brush over top and sides of each dough log.
  3. Bake logs until golden brown (logs will spread), about 30 minutes. Cool logs completely on sheet on rack, about 25 minutes. Maintain oven temperature.
  4. Transfer logs to work surface; discard parchment paper. Using serrated knife, cut logs on diagonal into 1/2-inch-wide slices. Arrange slices, cut side down, on same baking sheet. Bake 12 minutes. Turn biscotti over; bake until just beginning to color, about 8 minutes. Transfer to rack and cool.

A Cure?

June 25, 2010

I know that I have not been the most faithful blogger this week, but I promise you that I have a good excuse.  I have been valiantly battling a vicious seasonal foe: the summer cold.  Unless you harbor some secret wish to be a mucus-receptacle (in which case: ew), no one really enjoys getting a cold.  But colds are kind of expected in the winter.  And–let’s face it–they’re well-suited to winter: there are lots of steaming hot beverages and soups to curl up with, no one things you’re strange for wanting to snuggle under a blanket and watch marathons of TV shows that are of questionable quality (you know you do that, too).

But a cold in the summer is unacceptable.  Congestion is not only annoying when it’s warm out, but it’s also confusing.  “It’s so warm, wonderful, and sunny out,” you tell yourself “why is my nose running? And what’s up with these chills?” Apparently a box of tissues is not the hottest new accessory for lounging by the pool, and–maybe it’s just me–but when I’m sweating I don’t like to have to wonder about whether it’s due to an ailment or just because it’s hot outside.

Anyway, it seems that I have successfully dodged a full-blown cold, which I am very grateful for.  I am not sure what role running in 90+ degree weather has had in sickness prevention, and a reasonable person might attribute my speedy recovery to getting lots of sleep and consuming large quantities of fluids, but I think I’m going go ahead and to attribute it to food (are you honestly surprised?).

Everyone knows that fruit is chockablock (I love that word) of vitamins and all sorts of science-y sounding good-for-you things.  One of those things is antioxidants, and one fruit that supposedly has a disproportionately high antioxidant content is blueberries.  I am going to go out on a limb and assume that consuming blueberries with butter, sugar, and flour doesn’t diminish their health-promoting assets.  In fact, I’m going to assume that the combination enhances those qualities.  And, even though I can produce no concrete science to back up my claims, I know I felt a lot better after eating one of these blueberry breakfast bars.

Blueberry Breakfast Bars
adapted from Smitten Kitchen

Do you remember how obsessed everyone was with Nutri-Grain Bars when they first came out?  These are like Nutri-Grain Bars times a hundred in terms of deliciousness.  Even better, they are really easy and quick to make…oh, and they cure summer colds.  One thing to note: unlike brownies, where I wish every piece could be a middle piece, the edge pieces of this are the best.  If–who am I kidding?–when I make these again, I will split the mixture into smaller pans so that every piece can have the delicious crust.

For the crust and crumb:

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
1 1/4 cups rolled oats
3/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces

For the filling:

1/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 pound blueberries, fresh or frozen
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled

Make the crust and crumb:

  1. Preheat the oven to 350.
  2. Butter the bottom and sides of a 9-by-13-inch glass or light-colored metal baking pan. Put a long piece of parchment paper in the bottom of the pan, letting the parchment extend up the two short sides of the pan and overhang slightly on both ends. (This will make it easy to remove the bars from the pan after they have baked.) Butter the parchment.
  3. Put the flour, brown sugar, oats, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and cinnamon in a food processor. Pulse in short bursts until combined. Add the butter and pulse until loose crumbs form.
  4. Reserve 1 1/2 cup of the mixture and set aside.  Pour the rest of the mixture into the prepared pan and press the crust into an even layer. The crust should touch the sides of the pan. Bake until golden brown, 12 to 15 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let the crust cool.

Make the filling:

  1. In a medium bowl, whisk the sugar, lemon zest, cinnamon and flour together. Add the defrosted blueberries, lemon juice and butter and toss gently until the berries are evenly coated.

Assemble and bake the bars:

  1. Spread the filling evenly on top of the cooled crust. Sprinkle the reserved crust mixture evenly on top of the filling.
  2. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, rotating the pan every 15 minutes, until the top is golden brown and the filling starts to bubble around the edges.
  3. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely, then cut into squares and serve (or just eat them all yourself).

Breathing Down Your Neck

June 24, 2010

If you have been reading this blog for a while, you know that I am always trying to figure out good ways to motivate myself to workout.  I have tried committing my workout goals to a Google calendar, giving myself some tough love (as in, “just do it!“), and–although I haven’t discussed it with you–I haven’t been above self-bribery (brownies anyone?).  Each of those strategies works to a certain extent, but joining my running group has taught me that two things really, really motivate me: having other people around and having someone tell me I’m doing a good job (what can I say?  I’m a sucker for compliments.  I demand gold stars!)

I want to be clear, though, when I say that having other people around motivates me.  Some people have workout buddies, and they know that these people are depending on them to show up.  Although I might like to think differently, that’s probably not the case with my running group.  I’m pretty sure these people would be able to somehow pull through and workout even if I weren’t there.  But I’m pretty sure that at least one or two of them would notice that I wasn’t there (and obviously they would miss my witty water jug banter). I also have this feeling that “sorry, I decided I would rather drink an entire bottle of wine with my boyfriend than come run in circles on a track” wouldn’t be a good excuse to miss a workout–even if it was really good wine.  They might somehow get the impression that I’m not very committed to my training or something. (Can’t I be committed to running and wine appreciation?)

Alright, so now that I’ve admitted insecurity and fear of judgments gets me to show up on a regular basis, I guess I can go on to admit that pride is what keeps me going during the runs.  Yesterday, for example, we were doing an interval workout (interval=some parts are fast and some parts are slow, for those who don’t know), and when I was questioning my sanity for running in the heat and humidity I could hear the other girl I was running with breathing hard right next to me.  So much for stopping: if she was going to complete the run, so was I, dammit.  And every time I wanted to slow down or stop hearing her breath kept me going.

I have to say, though, that pulling ahead of her for the last stretch felt pretty good.

Oh, and hearing my coach’s “Wow, awesome job! Holy cow!” (her actual words, I swear) definitely didn’t hurt either.


Showstopping

June 21, 2010

Yesterday we had a pot luck dinner at our apartment with a bunch of our friends.  Pot luck meals/parties/whatever you want to call them are really great because everyone gets together for a meal, no single person is burdened with preparing all of the food, and everyone gets to contribute.  They are supposed to be friendly, laid-back affairs where everyone has a good time enjoying one another’s company and food.

It might be surprising for me to sound so casual and relaxed about sharing the responsibility of food preparation, and–I can assure you–that it was not always this way.  ”How will everyone know how amazing I am if I don’t hand-craft every single morsel to be consumed in my home I demanded to know.  However, after I absolutely insisted on making every single dish the first time we had our friends over, I learned that people do not enjoy themselves more if the hostess has an emotional breakdown before they arrive.

Still, that desire to prove my awesomeness lingers.  I will absolutely allow others to bring their favorite dishes–even their specialities–but I want to know that whatever I offer is something that people will ooh and ahh over.  Yesterday (ok, lots of times) that something was brownies.  And seeing as I have presented an inferior brownie on this site (although some of you did not believe them to be inferior), it’s probably about time that I present you with a real, proper brownie.

This brownie is so rich, moist, dense, and fudgy that it demands a cold glass of milk and a napkin or two.  You will talk with your mouth full about how awesome it is while trying to rationalize why it would be alright if you ate another one…or four.  And your friends (if they’re anything like my friends) will talk nostalgically about them, beg for them every time they visit, and leave with stacks of brownies in their hands and pockets because they cannot imagine being parted from their deliciousness.  Don’t worry, though: this recipe makes a big batch.

Outrageous Brownies
slightly adapted from Ina Garten

These brownies really are outrageously good.  A word of warning though (and not about the entire pound of butter that the recipe calls for), these brownies are really difficult to get out of the pan (see the photo above).  Grease your pan really well, flour it, line it with parchment paper, or do all of the above in excess if you absolutely demand clean looking brownies.  If not, consider the bits that stick to the pan a treat for the baker.  I also save them in a separate container because I have a hunch that with a some ice cream, a little hot fudge, and some whipped cream they would contribute to the one of the best ice cream sundaes ever.

1 lb unsalted butter
1 lb semisweet chocolate, chopped
12 ounces semisweet chocolate chips
6 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
6 extra-large eggs
2 tablespoons vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt

  1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
  2. Butter and flour a 13 x 9 inch baking dish (or 12 x 18 x 1-inch baking sheet if you like shallower brownies).
  3. Melt together the butter, 1 pound of semisweet chocolate, and the unsweetened chocolate in a medium bowl over simmering water. Allow to cool slightly.
  4. In a large bowl, stir together the eggs, vanilla, and sugar. (I like to strain the mixture after this point to get any weird hard protein bits out of the batter, but that’s just because I’m obsessive.  You can easily not strain the mixture and still have lovely brownies).
  5. Stir the warm chocolate mixture into the egg mixture and allow to cool to room temperature.
  6. In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add to the cooled chocolate mixture. Add the chocolate chips and pour the mixture into the baking dish.
  7. Bake for 20 minutes, then rap the baking sheet against the oven shelf (yes, really) to force the air to escape from between the pan and the brownie dough. (This is what makes them so dense and wonderful.) Bake for about 15 minutes more, until a toothpick comes out clean. Do not overbake them!
  8. Allow to cool thoroughly, refrigerate, and cut into 20 large squares..um, or as many squares as you want.

Collect Sugar Cookies

June 18, 2010

I read somewhere a while ago that Fathers Day has the honor of being the day on which the most collect phone calls are made (do people even make collect calls anymore?).  Anyway, I found that fact a little bit sad.  It goes without saying that on Mothers Day, moms deserve cards, flowers, brunch, breakfast in bed, and Hallmark commercials that both warm your heart and make you feel like an second-rate child.  But when his day rolls around, sure you call your dad..but you also make him pay for the call.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like my dad deserves better than that.  And because I’m me, I knew it would be best if that something was food-related.

Some people might say that my dad is a picky eater.  He doesn’t care for tomatoes (or ketchup or marinara or pizza), pie (or any cooked fruit), coconut, nuts (or…gasp! peanut butter), and a number of other things.  And, although I may or may not have told him about how I ate a fish eyeball recently just to see what his reaction would be, I can respect his tastes.  He’s a man who knows what he likes, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

In fact, a lot of my dad’s favorites are my favorites, too: pancakes, biscuits (and he knows that tasting the dough is a must), and mashed potatoes.  I think it’s safe to say that he enjoys classic foods: simple dishes where the flavors are really straightforward and–I’ll venture to say–comforting/comfortable.  Unfortunately, although pancakes, biscuits, and mashed potatoes are easy to make, they are not so easy to mail.  (Can you imagine getting a box full of mashed potatoes from the UPS guy?  Would he also bring gravy?)

Luckily, my dad once again proved himself as a man who knows his taste buds.  When I was trying to come up with something to make for him, he admitted that my post about shortbread made him hungry–only it would have been even more tempting if it had been about sugar cookies.  So, here you go, Daddy: here’s a post about sugar cookies to get your stomach grumbling.  Hopefully it will go well with the sugar cookies that I mailed to you.

Sugar Cookies
courtesy of Alton Brown*

Sugar cookies are really, really easy to make, and when they’re homemade they’re really a lot more delicious than store bought.  Although there is certainly nothing wrong with plain sugar cookies, they are even more appealing with a couple of sprinkles or a dash of colored sugar.  However, I learned the hard way that decorating them can be tricky, especially with the chilled dough (nothing sticks to cold dough).  As I was lamenting my dilemma, Chris said that I should maybe invite my five year old cousin over to help me with the decorating.  I finally figured out that about two minutes into the baking (when the dough is nice and warm and soft) you can put sprinkles or colored sugar on the cookies and it sticks perfectly.  But I’m sure my cousin would have done a good job, too.

3 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 egg, beaten
1 tablespoon milk
Powdered sugar, for rolling out dough

  1. Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
  2. Place butter and sugar in large bowl of electric stand mixer and beat until light in color. Add egg and milk and beat to combine. Put mixer on low speed, gradually add flour, and beat until mixture pulls away from the side of the bowl.
  3. Divide the dough in half, wrap in waxed paper, and refrigerate for 2 hours.
  4. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
  5. Sprinkle surface where you will roll out dough with powdered sugar. Remove one wrapped pack of dough from refrigerator at a time, sprinkle rolling pin with powdered sugar, and roll out dough to 1/4-inch thick. Move the dough around and check underneath frequently to make sure it is not sticking. If dough has warmed during rolling, place cold cookie sheet on top for 10 minutes to chill.
  6. Cut into desired shape (I just used a cup), place at least 1-inch apart on baking sheet, parchment, or silicone baking mat, and bake for 7 to 9 minutes or until cookies are just beginning to turn brown around the edges, rotating cookie sheet halfway through baking time.
  7. Let sit on baking sheet for 2 minutes after removal from oven and then move to complete cooling on wire rack. Serve as is or ice as desired. Store in airtight container for up to 1 week.

*I am a HUGE fan of Alton Brown’s show Good Eats.  If you have never watched it, do it as soon as you can.  He makes it cool to be a food nerd.


Running Changes Everything

June 17, 2010

In honor of completing two full weeks with my running group, I would like to present some running-related discoveries that I have made.  The following are four things that I’ve noticed running fundamentally changes.  Feel free to offer your own insights in the comments section, should you have any.  I’m sure my revelations will continue as my training does.

  1. Running changes how you feel about men wearing short-shorts.  They are no longer “weird” or “European” or making a “questionable fashion decision.”  These men are athletes to be feared and awed.  They will blow by you in a race.  (This is especially true if they happen to be pushing a stroller full of triplets.  They like to rub it in that way.)
  2. Running changes how you feel about being in the rain.  When you’re running, being caught in the rain is not annoying or romantic, it is a measure of how hardcore you are.  For example, if it starts raining during your run and you turn around I’m sorry to inform you that you may be a wimp.  If you finish your workout despite the rain, you are hardcore.  If you finish your workout and enjoy it because of the rain (rather than despite it), you are extra hardcore.  If you workout because you see that it’s raining, you are probably strange.
  3. Running changes how you feel about bad pictures of yourself.  For example, let’s say there is a picture of me covered in sweat and grimacing.  If it’s from after a night out, I will untag it if you are so unkind as to post it to Facebook.  However, if it’s that picture of me at mile twelve and a half of my marathon, I will declare that I look spectacular and try to convince Chris that we should have it enlarged so it can be the focal point of our living room.
  4. Running changes how you feel about clothing options.  If someone offered you shorts with built in underwear for everyday casual wear, you might feel inclined to share the good news that you have been potty-trained for quite some time now.  However, if someone offered you similar shorts to run in, you would already be walking (or running?) away with them before they finish asking you.

Pasta Warfare

June 15, 2010

Do you remember when I told you that the only things Chris and I argue about are who decides what we eat and how much I like being tickled?  Well, I wasn’t entirely truthful.  There is something else we argue about, and the argument has been going strong for at least four years now, with each of us confident in the righteousness of our position.  Thankfully–although many relationships have been broken up for trivial reasons (like, um, on every episode of Seinfeld)–I have not heard of anyone parting ways because they disagreed about pasta shapes.

Don’t get me wrong: we both agree on pasta.  We both agree that pasta is wonderful and delicious whether it is coated with marinara, slick with pesto, or baked in a cheese sauce.  We both agree that it can be a stand alone dish with meat, vegetables, and cheese mixed in, or it can be a simple but lovely side dish.  We also both agree that mushrooms are almost always an appropriate addition to any pasta dish.  It’s the shape of the pasta that trips us up.


There are some people out there who think that the shape of the pasta has a big impact on the dish, and each noodle has its own specific strengths and weaknesses.  Long noodles are good for swirling and slurping (not that you should do that in polite company).  Short noodles are easier for stabbing.  Ridged or corkscrew noodles do a better job of clinging to the sauce.  Large shells and manicotti noodles are ideal for stuffing, and so on.  These people might even go on to argue that each noodle tastes slightly different: shape contributes to thickness, which in turn contributes to mouthfeel, and mouthfeel may be seen as a component of taste.  I am unapologetically one of these people.

Chris thinks that all pasta tastes the same.


I keep threatening to make lasagna with angel hair noodles or macaroni and cheese with lasagna noodles to see if he’ll change his tune, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to ruin the integrity of a classic dish–even if it’s for a good cause.  In some instances, however, I will relent.  For example, Chris loves alfredo sauce, but he is not a fan of fettucine (because it takes too long to cook–not because of the way it tastes).  So I compromised and made him spaghetti alfredo rather than the classic.  We both can agree, however, that the mushrooms are a great addition to this dish.

Any-Kind-of-Pasta-You-Like Alfredo
adapted from The Pioneer Woman

This sauce is really easy and really delicious.  I mean, obviously it’s delicious: it’s just butter, cream, and cheese.  My one complaint is that–because of the parmesan–it can be a little on the salty side.  You can easily get around this by adding other components to the pasta dish (such as vegetables) or serving the pasta with a salad, steamed vegetable, or even just some bread.

1/2 lb of your favorite pasta
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup of butter
1 cup grated parmesan (fresh really is best here)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 1/2 cups cubed chicken (optional)
3/4 cup of sauteed mushrooms (optional)
3/4 cup peas (optional)

  1. Cook pasta according to package instructions and drain, reserving some of the pasta water.
  2. While the pasta is cooking, heat the butter and cream over medium low heat in a saucepan, stirring occasionally, until the butter is melted and the mixture is warm and slightly thickened.  Season with pepper and nutmeg.
  3. Place 1/2 cup of the parmesan in a large bowl and pour the heated butter and cream mixture over top.  Stir until the cheese is melted into the liquid.
  4. Add the drained pasta to the bowl and toss.  Add the remaining parmesan and toss again until everything comes together.  If the sauce seems a little thicker than you would like, add some of the reserved pasta water.
  5. Add the chicken, mushrooms, and peas, and toss everything together once more.
  6. Serve immediately.

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