Bake. Laugh. Eat. Repeat.
What You’ll Be Eating This Cinco de Mayo Week continues with some tacos, some crazy good crema, and some truth talk: tell me true – do you ever find yourself becoming that person???
That person who insists on humming along with the radio throughout an entire 8 hour road trip?
That person who puts empty milk and juice cartons back into the fridge?
That person with that habit you swore you’d never, ever, ever, never -not EVER- be like?
Don’t forget, this is truth talk time…
Let’s continue the Spring train today (hoping Spring, itself, will hop on at the next stop) with some lovely, sweet pastries.
What do you say?
I say yes! And you can’t stop me!
But do you really want to?
Even if I offer you a warm empanada?
Made with flaky butter crust wrapped around a fruity, coconut-laced filling?
What’s that you say?
You wouldn’t even dream of standing in my way?
I didn’t think so…
Today will be something of a wordless Wednesday…
as I show you a few simple pictures of some sweet, simple cookies that I made from a retro recipe found in my grandmother’s collection.
Lately I’ve been feeling a little unsure… not like “What’s the meaning of all this?” unsure, like “Would you like fries with that?” unsure. I think I might be experiencing some sort of option allergy.
Normally I relish choices. Choices make me feel empowered. Choices make me feel special. Choices make me feel like someone cares enough to ask which way I’d like to go.
But we can all agree that it’s possible to have too much of a good thing, right? Right.
So I decided to conduct a little field test. Just a random sample experiment, supervised and conducted by this girl. I wanted to know if I was overreacting or if my choice fatigue was legit.
I picked the day. I went about my business. I recorded every question I received. And now, my friends, the results of one Super Scientific Study on Question Asking In These United States…
The morning started with a quick grocery run so, of course, I was confronted with the seminal question of a suburban existence:
QUESTION 1: Paper or plastic?
OK, fine. I saw this one coming and was prepared. But apparently markets have juiced up the choice machine, because I was then assaulted with:
QUESTION 2: Would you like carryout service? (I had purchased 1 item weighing approximately 6 ounces.)
QUESTION 3: Would you like game pieces for our ongoing Scrabble promotion that you have approximately 1 in 1,845,391,046,775,475,201 chances of winning?
QUESTION 4: How would you like your change? (I paid with a five dollar bill.)
Again, I can accept the aforementioned. Establishments are trying to step up their service game and I certainly can’t hate on them for that. So I quickly and quietly completed the inquisition, took my one item and change, and departed.
Back to the kitchen for some recipe testing and only a few questions here:
QUESTION 5: (From a telephone solicitor) Would you like to take a brief survey about your television viewing habits? It will only take about 4.8 hours of your time.
QUESTION 6: (From a certain little dog) Why can’t I have any more of those bacon treats that you gave me last week? (OK, we won’t count this one.)
And then it’s off to the local post office.
At the post it’s a questionpalooza of stamp choices, decorative mailer options, extra service selections and the now ubiquitous change format inquiry (again, I paid with a five dollar bill). I refuse to torment you, my friends, with the ugly details. Suffice it to say that the slots for QUESTION 7-13 have been filled.
I’ll admit that I was weakened by question fatigue at this point, but I opted to stay strong and push ahead. It must have been during this moment of weakness, though, that I made the fatal flaw of deciding that the next stop would be our local movie rental shop.
No one’s perfect. But it sure is fun trying!
Oh, wait. No it’s not. Trying to be perfect is the stuff that F5 supernova meltdowns are made of.
Excuse me, I think your Richter scale is broken.
Apocalypse, in fact, Now.
As I continue my relentless, masochistic pursuit of perfection, I may or may not have been experiencing a few of these intergalactic meltdowns as of late.
Crazy hair. Crazy eyes. Bottomless purse. Missing car keys. Doggie going for lunch in the trash. iPhone going for a swim in the toilet. Sanity going away. Far, far away.
It’s at these times that one needs to come to terms with their true and actual capabilities.
You know, be real. Real real.
So when you set out, with the best of intentions, to craft the perfect, original, spunky coconut cupcake for your friend’s birthday, it might be a good idea to cut Meltdowntown off at the pass and go with a quick shortcut.
Thus this… A Tale of Two Packages.
At the risk of you, my friends, thinking that I’m a water-avoiding, Hot Pocket-guzzling, no work-doing, reality TV addict, I’d like to spend today discussing a New Year’s Resolution Victory from this past week.
Don’t worry, my DVR is fully programmed for any Bachelor and/or Jersey Shore opportunities, and Hot Pockets stand up well to re-microwaving.
Pay close attention, people. Things won’t be looking this good again until January 9, 2013.
That’s right: spices were alphabetized, canned goods were color-coded, dried chiles were sorterated, and my pantry actually got cleaned.
Believe.
And I don’t know about you, but when the Dog Star aligns with the Moon, Halley’s Comet threads the Eye of the Tiger and my pantry actually gets cleaned, I always wind up with a counter full of a little bit of this and a little bit of that:
4 ounces of white chocolate
1 tablespoon of honey
a dash of ground ancho chile
2 1/2 teaspoons of sesame seeds
3 1/4 ounces of butterscotch chips
a pinch of chia seeds
1 smidgen of some indeterminate substance wrapped in tinfoil and labeled simply ‘Dinner, Feb. 2011′
Huh? Whatever.
Today, if you don’t mind, I’m starting something new.
Just a few gifting ideas, inspired by and made with some of my favorite ingredients from my favorite corner of this country.
The time is right, don’t you think? Gifty giftapalooza is on everybody’s brain.
So let’s start this new thing with something sweet, maybe a little healthy?
Let’s start with some Sweet Tooth Granola.
Sometimes it’s nice to give the gift of health.
I love my family. I love my friends. I want them to stick around for as long as possible.
But, you know, I really don’t want to gift my mom or dad a colonoscopy. Nope.
I would prefer not to bless my BFF with a dental cleaning. Somehow I don’t think she’ll thank me.
And I’m pretty sure that even B., my poor little pudgy pooch, is not going to be thrilled when I gift him with a diet on Christmas day.
We need to find something a little more subtle, don’t you think?
A healthy gift that doesn’t involve a doctor’s waiting room or a backhanded (un)compliment.
So I’m thinking granola.
Did you go into the kitchen yesterday morning to have a large, healthy glass of water?
Of course you did.
Because you’re smart, and good, and nutritional-like.
Did you decide to throw yourself a bone and amp your water up by turning it into your favorite agua fresca? Perhaps. Innocent enough.
Horchata is made with ground rice and almonds. It’s cool and refreshing. And it’s a water-based beverage so no harm, no foul.
Did you think about the lovely flavors of Horchata while you were mixing your drink and come to the conclusion that they would make an excellent cake?
Fair enough. We’re just thinking here. No confectionary steps have been taken.
No ovens have been preheated. No pans lined and greased. No batter has been mixed. Not a single shred of coconut has been toasted.
And certainly no frosting has been whipped. None. Absolutely, positively none.
Because you’re good. And nutritional-like.
Ooooh coconut.
You got me with your sweet and you locked me down with your milk.
Coconut sleeper hold. Please don’t ever let go.
I have found bark candies to be, like pizza, burritos or a fork, simply a vehicle for putting delicious things into your face.
Today, the passengers in my vehicle are coconut, coconut and more coconut.
What a ride.
This bark is so simple – the toughest part is waiting for it to set before getting your cocada on.
And then wiping the sticky off of your face and fingers post-consumption.
Totally, totally worth it.
Howdy. Have a cookie.
You’ll need it to sustain you through the following paragraphs of immensely dorky cowboy references.
Yee haw.
These cookies are pretty much my favorite of all time – the confectionery equivalent of a supreme or trashcan pizza.
There’s something for everyone in these chunky gems, but they are still soft and chewy on the inside.
Even a city slicker would approve.
Whoa, Nellie!
These are beaters for begging for a licking.
The base dough, before you fold in all the goodies, is rich and creamy, sweetened with brown and white sugars.
I use shortening whenever I make these cookies, which lends a lovely texture to the finished product.
