I Can Have Cookies Magically

We are hitting new stages at our house all the time due to four little boys who are constantly upping their game and discovering the world. This week we reached the, "Bake Their Own Cookies" stage. Ru asked me if he could make cookies and told me that since he knows how to read decently now and he could tell that I was working on dinner...he'd do it alone!

And then, because he's a total extrovert who always feels better working in a crowd he recruited all of his brothers to be a part of the occasion, including the naked, potty training toddler. Ha!

It was amazing! He found the recipe, read it, got out all the ingredients, made the cookies and put them in the oven and then cleaned up the work area!

Voila! Life is amazing. He's 8 and we can have fresh cookies whenever we say the word.

Six Times Around

He's having a great day and he's been around the sun six whole times now! Today Ru turns six years old. We're celebrating some today (lunch at the local cafe, cake and special dinner at home and maybe, maybe a short romp at The Children's Museum this afternoon) and then a little more on Saturday after Daddy A has had a chance to get out and do a little top secret shopping for the man-of-the-hour.

Am so pleased to have shared a little over half a decade with this spunky boy. He's all buzz and high octane, has taught me a lot about myself and about children and been the source of loads of wonderful memories already. I cannot wait for another year of them. Am reminding myself of all the little ways I'm thankful for this boy with the twinkly eyes and the dimple and trying to keep things cheery for him in the midst of this really busy week. BUT...that said, I can't stay long....its nap-time which means it is time for all good birthday fairies to get busy with balloon arranging and cake decorating and burger prepping for all manner of party goodness which will go down tonight!

Willy Wonka, Poetry and a Garlic Cure

Today was a clammy sort of late winter day. Rain and spits of snow under a curtain of grey. The roof leaked into the playroom and made a pool of rust under the metal tray full of matchbox cars. We read far more chapters of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory than I intended.

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For lunch we turned on the broiler and toasted pita breads, spread butter on their hot, golden tops and cut them into garlic powder dusted wedges. They were so cozy and delicious going down that I had to repeat four or five times before all the littles were satisfied. I spent my nap-time quiet hour reading poetry instead of writing my own, looking for little nuggets of beauty or humor that other writers found in February.

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I sometimes need to just stick my head up there in the clouds and feast on cotton candy in order to have the fodder to continue. Ruth Stone, Jane Kenyon, Rumi, Mary Oliver and the like are good February nap companions. I am just nudging off the barest tickle of a cough which sometimes catches in my chest halfway between a choke and a laugh, so I keep rationing off another raw clove of firey garlic for a secret cure, drinking tall sparkling glasses of water and believing I am to strong to be brought down. Yesterday I had a long nap, and today I had a long poetizing. Little cures.

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Am off to kitchen to make a warm loaf of oat zucchini bread and put on make-up for a night out with A. We're off for a snug, weekend beginner alone together. The babysitter gets to wipe the noses and dole out the mac and cheese and I plan to order a de-caf espresso and drink it in long slow sips after dinner.

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Holiday Madness Kept Sane

Still festivizing our way along over here. I am doing quite well with my list of To Do items. Managing to be productive and yet pragmatic. Checking things off the list both because they don't matter after all and because I am accomplishing. Am feeling fairly balanced and clear-minded.

Thank you to our rector and his wife for their wise talk about holiday preparation and the importance of this sort of thinking! I do love stepping into something with the right mindset, even if it is sort of by accident. Last year I was pretty stressed out about the holidays and vowed that I would start shopping in July and take our Christmas card photo in October...etc. I didn't do any of that (not that it is a bad plan) but I still feel okay. I do think that planning ahead is good and that it helps...it also helps to plan to be happy and to have a willing-to-let-go attitude about certain things.

Today we made sugar cookies, I finished addressing most all of the Christmas cards and I started compiling the packing list I'll need to wrap my mind around sometime next week. Anyone have any genius tips for holiday travel as a family? We will be driving 14 hours and then some to Michigan with all the Christmas gifts and what-not....am open to any and all suggestions!

Next on my agenda is beginning the wrapping, gift inventory to be sure I've got everything and a little more elving work with the boys. Buzz, buzz, buzz!!!!

There is no end to the bustle....unless you're a toddler and then you just make spots for bustle-ending and crash as-needed. :)

Poetry Friday: Cookie Season Verse

Happy Poetry Friday everybody! It's been an age since I celebrated, eh? I have been feeling poem-dry and a little intimidated, plus Friday has a way of casting me deep into "who cares anymore!" mode. Heh heh. Ah the weekend, consumer of my motivation.

I am starting to think about New Years Resolutions and all the they entail, the idea of kicking your own butt back into shape and getting back on all the horses that bucked you recently. So, yeah...I'm back poets and poetry lovers. Poetry Friday must not be ditched. I have to be strong and keep at it. Sometimes I will just write crap. This is life. But keeping on and still writing is the the key to ever turning out good stuff. In the next couple of weeks I hope to compile and number all the poetry I've written this year as a result of this project and if that's not motivation, I don't know what is! Hooray for having output!

I am neck-deep in cookie baking right now, dough and flour from floor to ceiling, I swear it! So, it is time to do some cookie poetry. I bake a lot of cookies during the holidays. It is one of the strange projects I have invented for myself which admittedly creates a lot of work but also gives me a huge amount of satisfaction. A thinks I'm insane. I might be insane but I do bake anyway. :) I bake about 20 different varieties every year and every November I sit down and analyze the list from last year and cross out cookies that were just "meh" instead of amazing and add back anything from previous years that is getting a lot of fond remembering and then I go trolling for new recipes to add. This year I decided to make baklava, something I've made and enjoyed before but never at Christmas.... and then a poem came with it.

Baklava in Advent

I  wrote "baklava" down on the cookie list
It sounded strange but delicious to me,
Sandwiched between the gingerbread men
And sugar cookies iced with sprinkles.
I brush butter, sprinkle spiced nuts and
Gently coax the butterfly wing dough
Into softly fluted layers, rich with scent.
I preheat the oven and remember visiting
The sun-baked land of the Christmas Child.
I remember the heavy pressing heat in Galilee,
Arid country shattered and dusty like pastry.
There was a fervent squawking of hawkers
Selling whatnots in the streets of Jerusalem,
Over-laced with honey and spices drifting up
From the tented market stalls below our hotel.
I slide the finished pan into the waves of heat
Squinting to see through the invisible billows.
And upstairs, amid the squawking of my children
I address a Christmas card to my cousin in Israel
And wonder to myself, how much postage
It will require to send our family photo to that
Exotic port, home of honey and warmed spices,
Birth place of my baklava and my God.


Please do realize that I am in no way asserting that Israel is the birthplace of baklava, just that The Middle East is. I am no sort of expert on the origin of foods and this particular one is a source of great contention among peoples of various Cradle of Civilization nations.

Have a poem you want to share, either one you wrote or one you admire that another author created? You can go share too but posting a link in the comments of today's host for Poetry Friday: Robyn Hood. Happy weekend everyone!

Pie Secrets

 Just making and eating pie again, as is my usual custom this time of year. It seems like pie would be a great thing to make in winter when it is cold (and it is, if you freeze or can some of the summer fruit!) but I seem to mostly make it in warm weather when the bushes and trees are dripping with fruit and all hands are stained with juice. I love pie. Passionately. You can keep your cake...I'll stick with pie.

 I was busily making pies this week and then eating pies and think to myself about a small correction or two that I owe the pie making section of my blog audience. A while back I shared my favorite pie making cookbook and typed up the recipe I always use for blueberry pie.

 Well, a good friend used that recipe to make a pie and was much disgruntled to find that it sank down a very slumped in, and pale version of itself and came marching back to me to ask exactly why her pie didn't look anything like mine even though she'd used my recipe.

 I am my mother's daughter. I use recipes but I am also not afraid to experiment, and sometimes do so without my conscious or deliberate thought, even habitually. Can you believe that of me?

The hitch with my pie making is that I discovered in my newlywed pie making days that any standard recipe seems to yield those sort of sunken results and so requires tweaking. I follow the recipe's suggestions for sugar and thickening agent (usually cornstarch) but I pour in far more fruit than anyone would advise. They say, for instance, to add 3 1/2 cups of blueberries? I put in 6-8 cups. Pies should be teeteringly piled with fruit, so much so that the crust is required to hold it all in, because during the baking everything will shrink and compact and a bit of evaporation will occur. Always add more fruit. Add as much fruit as you can practically manage to squeeze in. Truly.

Another thing I always change in my pie recipes is the amount of water in the crust. Invariably recipes suggest far too little water for me to be able to get it to work. I just add water in tiny amounts...say a tablespoon or two at a time until I am able to get a dough to form. It is easy to go to far so go slow, and try to stir briskly and minimally in order to avoid making your dough tough, but I often end up adding as much as a half a cup of water. I just keep dribbling it in until the dough behaves.

So, there are my secret pie confessions....go forth and make pastry!

Poetry Friday: Baking + Stress

 Happy Poetry Friday to you all! Today I am sharing a poem about catastrophe. Not all poetry is about the pretty. Sometimes there is panic and mania and life feels all at ends. It's hard to share this kind of poem. I done one other, about my sister that was this shade of vulnerable but still every little bit of open and honest about faults and weakness feels like another level of nail-biting nervous. That said, I truly believe in the feelings and the honesty that writing can bring to the world and in the bits embedded in this poem. I hope you are able to use it in small small way. 

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Chocolate Cake, Balm for All Ills

It is a small private emergency, I have forgotten that I told our hostess

I will bring dessert and there is so much to do and so, so little time.

The:disheslaundrydiaperchangeusbandpickupdinnerprepshoefindingfingernailclippinggas

tankfillingrugvaccuumingargumentsettlingtoyfixinghometidyingclothes
changing

In short: the normal harried crush of motherhood.

I am having the panicky, slo-mo meltdown that I have on these occasions,

When I am asked to be a She-Atlas and also look graceful to boot.

I feel like my spleen might suddenly leave my body without my permission.

I alternately cry and curse and do a few harried circles in the kitchen.

There is no time and I promised to arrive, grinning at her front door

The diaper bag, purse and baby on one arm and a laden plate in the other

With moth-wing flutters pantry to counter, I assemble ingredients for,

What else? Chocolate cake, balm for all ills.

I don’t take the time to level the cups or even measure some items.

I sprinkle and drizzle and let powders fly in fevered tempo.

The counter, my chest and the nearby wall are bathed in cocoa dust.

The oven has somehow magically heated while I pour and mix and fling,

And yet now, the countertop is littered with dirty dishes in uneven, teetering stacks.

So, at the last, I end up on the very tile below the sink, a portrait of desperation

Holding the shining bowl between my ardent hands, I lean over the cake pan

And have my own silent confessional about housewifery, stress and other

Desperate, laden topics; principly, my urgent need for this cake to work.

Kneeling on the kitchen floor, I pour my fragrant prayer out in swirling brown eddies

Into the buttered pan, every scrape of the spatula says: ”Please. Please. Please.”

I have whirled into 5,000 Our Fathers and done all other manner of penance once

I manage to nudge the dripped upon pan into the yawning mouth of the oven.

I stay there on the floor a moment, forehead on my smudged fingers.

And I leave my prayer baking in the mercy of the God who understands the private 
Emergencies of all manner of people, even small somewhat harried housewives

If you'd like to read previous Friday creations, feel free to click on the poetry tab at the top of the page labeled "Original Verse." You can sit reading for a good while if you have a mind, the collection is ever swelling.

If you'd like to participate in Poetry Friday yourself or read a cross section of poetic inspiration please step on over to our hostess Tabatha's blog, The Opposite Of Indifference.

Muffin Love

I love muffins. I am not sure why they are such comfort food for me but they are. I know everything will be alright if I have a muffin. They can be sweet or savory, pretty much any flavor, homemade or bakery purchased, there's just something cozy and reassuring about them to me. I also love making muffins. Blueberry (wild if possible please!) and lemon poppyseed are my two deep favorites.

A thinks muffins are silly. A bizzare idea, little psuedo-cakes wrapped in annoying paper that you eat at breakfast and call appropriate. Such a waste of calories.

And yet I persist. Never one for rampant sensibility, I am not to be daunted by such views.(Doesn't this recipe look amazing?) Nothing makes me feel more surely that all is well with the world than a sizable pat of butter melting into the open halves of a warm muffin.

Dee has recently started telling me how much he loves muffins and begun not only asking for them to eat but me to make them for him from scratch. Makes a muffin loving mommy's heart bubble right over. Last night A took Ru for a Big Boys Only Outing to the local skateboard park and left me with the smallest littles. I asked Dee what he thought we should do while they were gone and his answer was, "Make muffins mommy!!!! Blueberry muffins, because those are my favorite!" And so I promptly kissed him.

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Cinnamon Uplift

Little ears are suffering at our house. First Nib had a double ear infection and then Dee got the same bug. It's all coughing, snuffling, gasping and then head-splitting nocturnal wailing around the clock these days. The thing I hate the most is the unsettlingly drawn-out fever that just burns perpetually with this illness. Nib was all flushed and sweaty and now he's over that stage and Dee is the one with the pink cheeks and the glazed eyes. He's finally over the stage where he lays draped over the arm of the couch either unconscious or moaning all day long. We are on the upswing. I thought maybe he would be pretty normal + a cough this morning and we'd be back to normal operations but instead I felt like I was waking a steamed lobster when I kissed him good morning on his forehead.

And that is how we came to be home, making cinnamon rolls in the kitchen sunshine instead of attending church. I was so sad to stay home but there are few more potent balms for soothing ear infections or wounded mommy spirits than home baked sweet rolls.

I think I'll be okay now.

Virtual Cooking Lesson #2: Morning Glory Muffins

We did indeed get our blizzard last night, everyone's off school and work and out whooping in their driveways at the neighbors, flinging snow from shovels and winging snowballs at each other. We have had a steady stream of nice young men knocking on our front door, with snow shovels over their shoulders, looking for work. I hope they are finding work elsewhere because I keep turning them away so that Ru will be able to shovel the walk with his daddy tonight...the great longing of his heart. Cute little man.

I have been busy baking, cold, snowy weather almost demands it! So, we find ourselves in the middle of our second installation of Long Distance Cooking Lessons. I wordlessly took a month off in December but, fear not...the program is not dead. I just needed a breather, as did many of you...cooking is all very jolly in December without any assignments.

What we're baking today are: Morning Glory Muffins, a super classic recipe that has everything but the kitchen sink in it, is loaded with fiber and vitamins and tastes a bit like carrot cake for breakfast to boot. My boys say "Yum!" This variation comes from King Arthur Flour and has whole wheat flour and no pineapple although some variations have it. I have a mad love affair with muffins which, are often not such healthy items so this hits my sweet spot, so to speak.

Morning Glory Muffins

1/2 cup raisins
2 cups whole wheat flour or white whole wheat
3/4 cup of maple syrup (or honey)
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups carrots, grated
1 large apple cored, and grated
1/2 cup shredded coconut
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1/3 cup sunflower seeds or wheat germ, (optional)
3 large eggs
2/3 cup olive oil, coconut oil or butter
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 cup orange juice or water

 

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 12-cup muffin tin, or line it with papers and spray the insides of the papers.

To make the muffins: In a small bowl, cover the raisins with hot water, and set them aside to soak while you assemble the rest of the recipe. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking soda, spices, and salt. Stir in the carrots, apple, coconut, nuts, and sunflower seeds or wheat germ, if using. In a separate bowl, beat together the eggs, oil, vanilla, and orange juice. Add to the flour mixture, and stir until evenly moistened. Drain the raisins and stir them in. Divide the batter among the wells of the prepared pan (they'll be full almost to the top; that's OK).

To bake the muffins: Bake for 25 to 28 minutes, until a cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from the oven, let cool for 5 minutes in their pan on a rack, then turn out of pans to finish cooling.

These muffins freeze well and also are great for snacks on-the-go and they are at their peak after a day or two of storage as the flavors just meld and marry with a little time to kill.