Warm drinks for cold days

Yes, it is that time of year when cookies, candies, and chocolate come out of the woodwork tempting you with "just one." Thus far, I have managed to avoid baking or eating cookies, though I fear Friday night's party may destroy me with the latter. However, I think one of my favorite parts of the holiday is not the sweets as much as the beverages. So, to mark this season, some of my favorite hot beverages: (in no particular order, since I have decision issues)

1. Hot Cider. Not powdered or warmed up apple juice. The cider my mom would make over the Christmas holiday and let simmer on the stove all day. I cannot recall everything she put in it, but here is was a do remember: apple juice or cider with cinnamon sticks, cloves, and some other whole spice bobbing along in the brew, infusing their flavors in both the liquid and the air. Perfect when paired with the sugar cookies we would spend all day making.

2. Hot Chocolate. Sure, most of what I know come from a powder-filled can or packet, but it is darn good. I am sadly not a fan of marshmallows in my drink, though whipped cream is always welcome.

3. Orange Spice Tea. Yet another powdered mixture made from Tang, instant tea, cinnamon, sugar, and red hots. Citrus and spice and everything nice.

4. Something I have fallen for, thanks to my new boss (he is my fourth new boss this year, in addition to the old one I cannot get rid of) is Starbucks Peppermint Hot Chocolate. Oh my goodness is this good. Better than its kin, the Peppermint Mocha. As someone put it excellently this week, it is like drinking a York Peppermint Patty. I think, given the opportunity, I could drink a gallon of it in a day. It is minty, clean, warm and creamy.

5. Then, there is always, hot tea. You pick your favorite. I prefer green and black teas, depending on my mood, time of day, and what I may be eating with it. Tazo is a reliable brand. I drink mine straight up, no cream, sugar or honey.

I know, there may be some of your favorites that I am leaving off. Eggnog, for instance. Being that last year was the first time I tried it, and never attempted it warm, I shall hold off on crowning it worthy of my list until further research has been done. And wassail. I do not even know what that is. Maybe I have had it, I don't know. Doubt it, though.

So, whatever you drink this winter season, I hope it keeps you warm. Unless you live where I live and the thermometer is flirting with 80 degrees right now. Then you may need a Cherry Limeade.

Thanksgiving 2007

Another Thanksgiving Day has come and gone, filled with floats, football, and, of course, food. This year, as in every other one, I spent mine with the family enjoying an unstressful, relaxed day watching the dog show on TV. This is a recently added "tradition" for Turkey Day, watching the dog show after the parade ends. We each choose our favorite pooch and pray that the poodle does not win. It is adorable, furry, and is a great way to talk yourself into getting a dog. I think I may have only a slight crush on my pick this year - the Norfolk Terrier.

Now, the food - with pictures!

First things first, the turkey. After years of roasting her own bird, my mom decided that Popeye's can do it better. I present to you, the Cajun-fried turkey.

Why fried turkey? Gone are the stringy, dry pieces of turkey you spend half of your Thanksgiving dinner gnawing on. And, it means you the cook do not have to baste or season or stuff the gobbler.

And now, the sides:

Dressing, of course. We here in the South are all about cornbread dressing. None of this white bread or (shudder) oyster dressing. We do not need walnuts or fruit in our dressing. It is thick, it is a perfect textured compliment to the turkey residing on your fork. Paired with giblet gravy, it does not get much better than that. (Yes, that's right. Giblet gravy. You got a problem with that?)


Cranberry Relish. I do not know what is in this, but it is mighty fine. The tart fresh cranberries and a hint of citrus (orange I believe) makes for a nice refreshing burst in your mouth after the dressing and corn and bread.


Candied yams. I have only had sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top once in my life that I can recall. And it was nasty. This, this is what yams were made to be. Creamy on the inside with a nice sugared crunch on the outside. I do not know how my mom creates these, I know there is Karo syrup involved, but I fear should I ever get the recipe, I will make them as often as possible.

Marinated vegetables is a year-round side dish for my family. Equally welcome at tables both turkeyed and barbecued. It, like the relish, is a nice cool refreshment between the creamier and warmer bites. Consisting of cucumbers, carrots, celery, red onion, vinegar, celery seeds and some other stuff, it is delightful and one of my all-time favorites.


My contribution to the dinner table - Herb Stuffed Tomatoes. Turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself. Hollowed out tomatoes stuffed with parsley, provolone, bread crumbs and tomato guts, then cooked until cheese is melted and tops are crisp.


Sides not featured:
Giblet gravy - creamy, little chunky, good
Creamed corn - I did not try this. I think I got spoiled on the picked on a farm, shucked, made-from-scratch kind.
Dinner rolls -They came pre-fab. You probably had them at your table too.


Dessert. Oh dessert. This year's dessert options featured two lovely pies. First up is the seasonal favorite pumpkin pie. My family seemed to like it, so I guess it was good. I am not personally a pumpkin pie fan, but to each his own. Mom wanted me to make sure I noted that this pie (minus the crust) was made from scratch.


And now, the piece de resistance. Lemon Meringue Pie. My mouth waters just thinking of it. This is, by far, the best pie ever created by mankind. I have tried many lemon meringue pies in my life and all have fallen short. Why? Some crusts were soggy, fillings jello-y, meringues fake. But all, all have fallen short in the most key area. Tartness. Lemon meringue pie should smell like lemons and make you pucker just a little when you take a forkful. I need to taste the lemon. Get that? The Le-mon. Not the lemon pudding or jello or that juice from a lemon-shaped squirter, actual lemons. This, this is what pie is meant to be.


I leave you now with before and after photos of one of the Thanksgiving plates. I hope your Thanksgiving was as filling and tasty as mine!

Blueberries ala mode

What do you do when you have a bunch of fresh (frozen) blueberries, a pie crust too shallow to make a decent quiche recipe and no eggs? Blueberry pie! Blueberry crumb pie, to be more exact. I have been in quite a baking mood of late, which probably means there is some issue or thought process I am deeply devoted to avoiding. But it sure does make my place smell tasty!

I found myself Saturday looking for something to occupy my time for a few minutes, and the reminder that I had blueberries in my freezer begging to be used sent me on a recipe hunting expedition. A few immediate problems: I had no eggs, no lemons (used often to enhance the flavor), and no raw pie dough. I finally came across a recipe that I could amend to meet my needs, Blueberry Crumb Pie.

I did not have enough blueberries, even with my bagged frozen ones, which ended up making the filling a little too heavy on the sugar and light on the tart, but recipes are made to be tweaked with and I tweaked not so well. And then there is the issue of my oven which has been running hot lately, which I forgot when I baked the pie. This led to blackened edges, but was great for the crumb topping which melted into a decent crust. Not bad for a spur of the moment dessert, if I do say so myself. One of my friends asked me who I was going to share my pie with. Um, do you not think I will eat it all myself? I am a generous person when it comes to food, but some things are for my comfort alone, and my pie is one of them.

Unfortunately, I did not have the presence of mind to remember next week is Thanksgiving and I will be eating the best pie ever - Lemon Meringue Pie. I puck a little just thinking about it. Feeling the light meringue slowly melt in my mouth, ushering in the custardy lemon filling and flaky crust. Maybe some day when I have to put on my own Thanksgiving feast, it will be nothing but carbed-up sides and pies. But, until that day, Blueberry Crumb Pie will work well enough.

And, no, I have not been eating it from the tin. It may be my personal pie, but it still needs some amount of respect and care.

History and 'staches

One of the most difficult things for me in college was a task that, on paper, looked rather innocuous. It would say something along the lines of "Write a #-page paper on a topic related to Xth-century history." A whole century to choose whatever topic I liked! And then came the avalanche of options. Do I write about a person? An event? A battle? A war? An election? A crisis? Do I try to find a topic that is not commonly written about in Xth-century history?

One of the most popular history courses in college was one I honestly feared to take - History of the Holocaust. I feared it because it is a hard subject to read about, not be biased toward. And, I wondered, if after a whole semester of reading about the horror and atrocity, would I be a little more immune from it? It was not something I wanted to be immune to. I did not want to think of it in so-called academic perspective, rolling off the statistics and quotas and percentages. So, I did not take that class. Or any class related to World War 2.

However, if I had been in a World War 2 class and been asked to write an essay, and I had as much time and creativity I could muster, this would be the essay I would want to have written. There are a few things that come up quickly that would not have worked for my situation. I am not Jewish and I am not a man. But to study the history of the toothbrush "Adolf" mustache, see where it began and how it changed the world, that would have been an excellent paper.

Rich Cohen, the author of the article, alludes to something, but does not say it outright. He writes about some of the US presidents and their facial hair of choice. After World War 2, no president has sported facial hair of any kind. It is like to have facial hair at all risks reminding people of that last famous political facial adornment. And, as Cohen mentions, the so-called "evil" political leaders after the war to today are the ones with facial hair. Castro, Guevara, Pinochet, Abdullah, Hussein.

This is not to say all people with facial hair are evil. I know men sporting the face hair and they are wonderful, kind people. But it is an interesting facet of history to look at.

What do you respect?

I am listening to a clip from the morning radio show I listen to on the way to work. Since I do not catch the whole show, I like going online from time to time and listening to the highlight clips. In the one I am listening to right now, the cast answers the question, "What do you respect?" Thus far, they have talked about mothers, integrity, men who respect their wives, blind people, and doctors. Usually the clips are fun and light-hearted, but this one gave me pause. What or who do I respect? What or who do you respect? Is is a person, a group of people, a characteristic?

Here are a few of mine...

- My parents. All parents really. I do not know how they do it. The amount of patience needed to be a parent, the love and the heartache involved. Scares me thinking I may be one some day.

- Paper. I would not be able to have my relaxing, in-bed reading without paper. No post-its, no spiral notebooks, no letters on random days.

- Water. Drinking it, bathing in it, swimming in it, playing in it, water is grand.

- People to whom learning does not come easy. People who have to study and study just to make a passing grade.

- Artists, musicians, and writers. The creative folk. My brain does not work that way. Sometimes I wish it did.

Wedged Bread

What better way to follow up a post about tea than to talk about scones? I can still remember my first scone like it was yesterday. At least I shall classify it as a scone since I had it with tea and it was made by a British grandmother-type. No, I am not joking. The first scone I had was in the lovely hamlet of Bargoed, Wales. I was there with a group from church doing Bible clubs and football, rugby, and coffeehouse outreach. The ladies of the church fed us well with raisin cakes/scones. I remember tolerating the raisin cakes, being as they were a bit dry and "thick."

Next scone memory - the cranberry walnut scone from Schlotzsky's Deli. Something I never would have tried had I not worked at Schlotzsky's. Mainly because I do not eat at Schlotzsky's much. This scone was huge! Wedge-shaped, filled with tart cranberries and toasted walnuts, topped with a sugary crust. It was divine.

My first attempt at making scones was thanks to a family friend who had a great peach harvest and gave my family some pounds of leftovers. My mom asked me to make peach scones. A lot of slicing and even more sticky mess. result - okay scones, do not remember them as being too scone-like with all the fresh fruit happening. More like an open-faced turnover.

Then. Then I found her. I do not remember how I came across her, but it was love at first sight. Dried Cherry Almond Scones. I have tempted officemates, friends, enemies, and family alike with this one. Flaky bread, huge sweetly tart dried cherries, glorious almond perfume, slight crunch from toasted almonds and sugar top. It is a masterpiece every single time I make them. (Recipe intentionally not linked to. Why? Because she is mine, mine, I tell you! All mine! And I am not sure where I would find it. And I am selfish, keeping all the scone glory to myself and those who eat them.)

She and I have had a happy relationship over the years, caring for one another in times of need, like brunches, cross country car rides and care packages. But variety is the spice of life, so I ventured on in quest of the next scone. I found it on my birthday. In the instruction manual for my new Kitchenaid Food Processor. I know, who thought of looking in an instruction manual for recipes? Well, with Kitchenaid they can be found. And they are pretty good, as my refrigerator can attest to. I currently have Kitchenaid Cinnamon Bread, white bread, pizza dough and hummus in it. No joke.

Back to the scones. Cranberry Orange Oatmeal Scones, courtesy of Kitchenaid. Grated orange peel, a whole cup of dried cranberries, yummy oats. All quite good. Used my handy dandy processor to do all the mixing and chopping work for me, kneaded the dough a few times, formed it into a circle on parchment paper, cut it into wedges and cooked. Easy as pie, except it is scones. One of the issues with scones that can occur is they can be a little dense. More like holding a brick in your hand than a baked pastry good. And I had my qualms about this one going into it. Oats are not known for being light or fluffy.

Took the scones out of the oven and drizzled orange glaze on the tops. The orange glaze is enough to make me cry - 1/4 teaspoon orange peel, some powdered sugar and fresh squeezed orange juice. Let them cool a little, enough so I would not scald my mouth, dove in.

First impression - Good gracious is this moist and flaky and light! It melts in your mouth. The tart with the sweet with the oaty. Beautiful. Upon further eating, I recognized some things that I would like to amend for batch two. The cranberries were indeed chopped in the processor, a little too much. I wanted larger chunks. Maybe next time I will add them toward the end, or chop half a cup and leave the other half whole. The glaze was a little too sweet, a little more orange juice needed next time. Or orangier orange juice. But overall a hit in my opinion.

What I enjoy about both the cherry scone and cranberry orange scone recipes is that it is easy for me to envision how to amend them. I can switch out dried fruit for different dried fruit, orange peel for nuts or another citrus/extract flavor. The possibilities are limitless.

Tea: The Other Brown Brew

Office politics amuse me. Why some things happen while others don't, and the people pushing behind those happenings tells a lot about who has the strongest voice or persuasive method. Generally it is not me, which is why I feel fairly confident that I can write what I am about to write, and what I say will not be taken as belligerent office employee but musing minority.

It is about coffee. Or, more specifically, how I do not drink coffee. At least not the "regular" coffee of the office building. I understand there is a history of coffee in offices, where employees are provided the liquid free of charge. However, I have a slight complaint about this history. The times, they are a'changing, and more people are exploring different beverages. Like my hot beverage of choice, tea.

I like drinking tea every so often. I have a basket of tea in my office with varieties ranging from green to black to herbal. And, while the downstairs kitchen has a jar of various teas to choose from, I think most of what is in there is Lipton regular tea, the kind you brew for iced tea. In other words, very little "tea cup" tea.

Here is where the coffee comes in. While a vast majority of the staff are coffee drinkers, there is a growing minority that prefer tea. However, the tea people (Tea-ers) must purchase their own tea for work. Should this be so? Should the Tea-ers buy what the Coffees can get for free? Is this a workplace inequality? Or, are Tea-ers too selective in what they like to have a blanket variety pack provide for all?

For instance, I prefer green tea. Another coworker only drinks black tea. Yet another lives by loose leaf green tea. Are we Tea-ers too selective in both type and brand to be easily satiated? With coffee, as is my understanding, if it is a little to strong one can put more cream and/or sugar in it, whereas with tea, if it is not your flavor, there is not making it taste better. Bitter tea is bitter tea is bitter tea.

I can see where the argument can go from here. Someone speaks up, saying that if the Tea-ers get their liquid provided for them, then s/he prefers to drink a certain brand of soft drink every morning. And another would like orange juice, but no pulp and low acidity. Suddenly the office is stocking every beverage under the sun to accommodate everyone. It would anarchy. People would start expecting that muffin or egg white omelet to compliment their morning brew of Indian Chai tea with clover honey and vanilla soy milk. Or someone who only drinks a Starbucks venti 1% triple Caramel Latte no foam.

But where do you draw the line? Is hot tea in the national conscious enough that people would drink enough of it in an office building to merit the company buying the tea for them? Or, since Tea-ers are a selective lot, do the Tea-ers ask for reimbursement on the tea they buy for work?

A note here. I have no problem with the beverage situation at my job as it stands now. I have no problem buying whatever tea suits my fancy when I go to the store. I do not drink it often enough that I am buying a new box every other week. And, with the new "coffee" machine downstairs, I can get a hot chocolate as a treat when I like. Which is usually close enough to coffee for me. This is more a think I wonder about when the afternoon gets long and my eyes begin to gloss over from computer screen glare.

Sundry Thoughts

I have been thinking as of late about life, future possibilities, and where my focus lies. Actually, correct that - I have been thinking about avoiding thinking about all those things. If that makes any sense to you at all. And, as happens sometimes, I began to think about things outside what immediately affects me right now. Cultural, political, societal, generational, etc. And I have come up with some things I think would be good for my generation to think about, act on, and such.... (In no particular order)

1. Read. No, not the latest celebrity gossip or style trends; not the headlines on your Google or Yahoo! homepage. Read the stories below the headlines. Sure the media may be biased in some areas, but at least you are now aware of something outside of your own personal news stories. Read what is not on the front page - small stories of hope relegated to pages on cnn.com you never knew existed, stories of tragedies in countries you did not know exist. Read a book that has nothing to do with a boy wizard or happy-ending romances. Read about something you are not comfortable or familiar with, whether it be about genocide in Eastern Europe or that chick book with that guy Darcy in it. You may learn something about yourself, others, and the world no Hollywood movie could show you.

2. Use energy efficient light bulbs. They last a long time, they reduce your electric bill, and they may just help the environment a tad. Good for the wallet and nature! And, if you are in the market for a new home electric appliance, get the Energy Star and help the wallet and nature even more.

3. Step away from the computer, video game, television, iPod, and cell phone and meet your friends face-to-face every now and then. It may be awkward at first because you do not have the safety of staring at a screen any more, but the end results will be greatly beneficial to all involved. You may even have more fun together in real life than you did in the cyberworld.

4. Vote. Vote every single time you can. But don't vote for a person only because there is an "R," "D," or "I" in parentheses after their name. Vote for a person because you read about them, their stance on the issues you care about and think you should care about, voting history, everything. The candidates and issues you support may surprise you. Oh, and don't just look at the big name candidates, look at the second- and third-tier ones as well.

5. Help someone out. It could be tutoring a teenager after school, helping a friend pack and move, volunteering at a soup kitchen or for an organization like Habitat for Humanity, assisting the elderly woman or the mom with three kids at the supermarket. Something that is not about you, that you do not expect accolades for, and that betters the life of someone else, be it for a moment or a lifetime.

6. Ask how someone is doing and then wait for the answer. The real answer. And then listen, for as long as it takes.

7. Go on an adventure. It could be Kuala Lumpur or Tomball, Texas. Go somewhere with some friends to a place you have never been for a day, a week, some period of time, and have fun. Eat at the local cafe; talk to the waitress, she (or he) probably has been around a while and has a host of stories. Check out a small town football game on a Friday night and cheer like you've lived there your whole life. If overseas, eat the monkey brain if for no other reason to say you did.

8. Recycle. I don't do it and I should. I even found out my apartment complex has a few recycle bins so there is no excuse for me any longer. Plastics, metal, glass, paper. Find a place that does it and bring your recycling stuff there. (Whole Foods has recycle bins outside if you are looking for a place.)

9. Drink water. It does not taste like much, is not exciting to look at, but it is the one thing all health gurus agree on. It does a body good! And drink the tap water. Bottled water is probably water from someone else's tap in nice packaging. Tap water saves you $1.25 for every 20 ounces, and you don't have to throw any plastics away.

Alright, now that I feel like I am that "always wear sunscreen" song, I will stop.

A few of my favorite things

It has been a bit since I last posted. Not because I had nothing to write about, just that all I wrote about were found to be incomplete or in need of major refining. So, to satiate my readers (all two of you - hi!) and because my week has begun less than stellarly (two words: bulk mailing), I present things I like.

1) Rain when the sun is still shining. Actually, I like it when it rains in general, sun or no sun. The smell, sound, feel, all of it. Yes, even thunderstorms...as long as my power does not go out.

2) Peanut butter. For more detail on why I like peanut butter, read this.

3) Mozilla. Some of you may never of heard of this. I had not until my old computer started acting up on me (my Microsoft computer rejected Microsoft Office) and I had to find a new means of accessing internet. Tabbed browsing is a beautiful thing. I know, I know, Internet Explorer has tabbed browsing now, too. Mozilla is still better.

4) My mixer. I heart my mixer. I have made whipped cream, pizza dough, cookies, brownies, breads, and muffins using it and it has yet to fail me. It incorporates just the right amount of air into whatever it is I am mixing, giving the resulting edible the correct airiness my hand mixing could never achieve.

5) Burt's Bees. Pretty much anything from them. It smells (usually) good, feels good, and is natural to boot. I use their face soap, moisturizer, lip balms, and lotions regularly.

6) Hairy Man Road. Yes, that is right, I am talking about a road. When I was in college, I drove down this stretch coming and going and it was so inviting. Trees canopy the road, the sun seeping through the green leaves and boughs above. It was warm and peaceful. Also, the road has its own festival, complete with the Hairiest Man contest.

As to why this small stretch of road is nicknamed Hairy Man Road. Legend has it that he was left as an infant along the Brushy Creek river by settlers moving West in the 1800s. He was raised by the animals and always resented human intrusion to his creek and bluffs and would hang from the trees above wagon trains, dragging his feet on the tops to frighten the settlers. One time, it is told, his feet got caught on a carriage and he was dragged behind it until he died. Since then, if you drive along Hairy Man Road, you may hear his feet scraping along the roof of your car.

7) The Blair Handbook. I have used his book more than I ever thought I would. It shares how to cite books, articles, journals, and whatever else needs citing. Talks about punctuation uses, formatting essays, reviews, persuasive papers. And it gives several citing options: ALA, MLA, Chicago. It is the one useful thing I gained from taking freshman English in college.

I think those are enough things to like for now. I am starting to feel a little better already!

An Apple (Dumpling) a Day

I tried a new recipe. It was good. I want to share it with you, but I do not want to give you the recipe. I would rather make it for you and have you be in awe of all the time, effort, and work that must have gone into making it. However, that is a bit self-seeking and it is great recipe to have in your back pocket for a last minute dessert to make for guests. And they will never know how easy it was to make. Unless, of course, you spill the beans and share the recipe with them like I am about to.

A few months ago I bought a box of frozen puff pastry sheets. I did not know what I would make, but it seemed like a good thing to have on hand. In case I need to make Beef Wellington or strawberry napoleons on a breezy Sunday afternoon. Truth was, I did not know what to with it. I would stare at the box in my freezer, look online for ideas. But nothing seemed to shout to me "I am the chosen recipe! Choose me for your flaky puff pastry!"

And then I found it. It was like God ordained the recipe for me. I mean, the recipe is called Allie's Delicious Baked Dumplings. It is meant for me to make! After procuring the one ingredient I was missing, apples, I set out on my adventure to make baked apple dumplings.

This is just about the simplest thing I have ever made next to the PB & J or a tuna sandwich. And, of course, my famous spoonful o' peanut butter with chocolate chips. (Spoon PB, small bowl of chocolate. Dip chocolate chip in PB. Eat. Repeat.) The hardest part is peeling the apple, but that was because I did not have a proper peeling mechanism.

Follow the directions: cut, roll, sprinkle, fold, press, bake. And then comes the icing. Oh my word, the icing. Who knew that adding a little bit of vanilla would increase the delectability of icing by an overwhelming margin. Here is where the recipe and I diverged. It said to wait to ice and eat dumpling until completely cooled. That is dumb. When faced with choosing between warm apple dumpling and cool apple dumpling, I choose warm. Sure the icing may slide off the dessert a little, but you can mop it up with the forkful of goodness.

I wish I had a picture of how my dumplings turned out, because they looked way better than the picture on the recipe. It honestly looks like something you would pay five bucks for at a restaurant. The outside is a dark gold brown, crunchy and flaky and light. But the good stuff lies on the inside. Through the baking process, the apple half melts and becomes a applesauce consistency. It is a bit firmer than applesauce, but has definitely lost the crunch of raw apple. Typical bite: soft and warm apple with cinnamon and nutmeg, a little crunchy flaky crust and a hint of vanilla from the icing. I did not have ice cream, but some vanilla bean would go fantastically with it.

Apple dumplings could become something I make every weekend. It is an easy recipe to halve, so I could eat one on Saturday and one on Sunday. It reheats very well; the crust does not get soggy and the apple does not become dry. It is a light dessert and would go well with a heavier entree like steak or filet mignon. I could see it served at a family grill night or as an end to a 4-course dinner. And here's the thing, if you want to make each dumpling hold a quarter of an apple to make the dessert a little smaller, I do not see why that would not work. The only reason I see why encasing a whole apple in the dough for dumplings may not work is that the apple would collapse as it cooked and you would lose the dumpling's structure.

Possible variations: pear or peach. (Peach may require some tweaking on the spices. A little more sugar and nutmeg, little less cinnamon. Eater's discretion.) Possible movie go-with: The Apple Dumpling Gang.

Strata for the Popeye Lover in You

I have a new go-to recipe for providing food for a group of people. It was tea sandwiches, but that was quite labor intensive, and not good make ahead food. Most people do not like soggy finger sandwiches. So, I have a new one coming to a brunch, lunch or bar mitzvah near you.

Spinach and Pancetta Strata is egg casserole and quiche on caffeine. Except there is not caffeine, just lots of tasty ingredients. Eggs, spinach, pancetta (Italian bacon), and bread all meld together beautifully in this dish. The most laborious portion of the creation is chopping and sauteing onions and cubing the bread. And waiting. There is at least 2 hours of that.

This is a great dish because it truly can be served for any meal. At breakfast it is quiche with no crust or an omelet and toast mixed together. Lunch and dinner is a casserole-like side. Also, it is still great reheated, something that scored major points for me as the sole eater of my household.

The taste. Because, when it comes down to it, that is pretty much all that matters. Okay, taste and mouth feel. The salty crunch from the pancetta perfectly compliments the heartiness of the spinach and bread. And, toward the end of each bite, you get that hint of sweet and spicy nutmeg. Who knew that little amount of spice would create such big flavor? The egg soaked bread makes for a bread pudding-like texture, but by no means soggy. The pieces of bread on top toast to a nice crunch while those in the dish retain their shape even after hours of resting in the egg mixture.

The strata is good because you can look at the base ingredients (milk, eggs, bread, onion) and add whatever you like. Broccoli, olives, basil, tomato, cheese, bell pepper, mushrooms, bacon, sausage, whatever your heart and mouth desire. Think of it: strata with cremini mushrooms, roasted bell pepper and Italian sausage...tasty, tasty! I like it when I find recipes I can switch up without too much fear of failure. It allows the creative culinary portion of my mind to stretch, and it allows me to test trial recipes out on unsuspecting victims like my coworkers, family, and friends. I have not poisoned or killed anyone yet!

UT Move-In

Last Saturday morning myself and a bunch of other people found ourselves heading over to the University of Texas campus to help our fellow man out. (Note, in this post I will most likely repeatedly refer to UT. Let it be known to my Aggie brethren, I am typing t.u. in my heart, I just don't want to confuse people.) HCBC-UT hosted their third annual move-in day at UT. This was the first time I was able (or willing) to travel to the campus to help incoming freshman and sophomores move into their dorm rooms. I came away thinking several things. Here are my several thoughts:

1) I wish we had people helping me move in my freshman year. And every subsequent move after that. Other than mom and dad, they are required to help their daughter move.

2) I got a cool shirt. It is yellow. I did not think I would like a yellow shirt, but I do.

3) People were floored that we were there to help them move in. Shocked, even. That rocked.

4) Moving is fun...if you are not the one moving.

5) I go to a great church who love the campus, love the students, and fully embrace all that is a college church. And I think getting a tattoo is a requirement to work there.

6) Girls like the color pink. A lot. If the girls I moved in could have painted their rooms pink and gotten all pink furniture, they would have.

7) What we did was so simple. Lifting a few boxes, holding doors open, staying upbeat and positive. How many simple things am I missing out on doing?

8) The two dorms I moved people into smelled. And not sweaty dorm smell. One smelled like bacon. The other smelled like my grandmother's biscuits. That is just wrong. UT, that is cruel and unusual punishment. It also completely takes the college students' excuse of "I need more money. The food here is terrible. I have to eat at Austin Pizza everyday." Mom and dad know the food is good, they smelled it.

9) This was the most enjoyable few hours of my life since I worked in East Austin. Helping others feels so selfish at times. You are the one who gets the warm fuzzies afterward. I think it could be addictive. But what an addiction to have.

10) If HCBC UT keeps its mission focused on the campus, incredible things are going to occur at UT, in Austin, and across the world. Thank you, HCBC UT, for daring to think big and challenge greatly.

Chicks on Sticks

Okay, now that my title has grabbed the male eye, let me tell you about Alton Brown's Chick on Sticks, better known as Chicken Satay. This is another recipe discovered in his book I'm Just Here for the Food: Version 2.0. I am not a ginormous fan of cookbooks as I feel slightly overwhelmed by the options held within the covers, but I have yet to keep one of Alton's (we're on a first name basis) on the shelf for more than a month. He has great information about what to use when cooking and how to use what you have to cook. There is even a section in this book about how to use a flower pot to cook a chicken. It that not awesome?

I was unable to find the exact recipe online, so you will have to work with my descriptions and "close to actual recipe" links or bug me for the recipe via email. What you need to start off with (hardware) is a grill, grill pan, or good skillet; skewers that fit on your cooking surface (in my first attempt, I had to cut my skewers to fit the pan); a bowl; some measuring implements, both cups and spoons; a whisk; cutting board and knife; plastic wrap; and a mallet. Oh yes, this is one of those anger management dishes. Perfect for bad days at work, finals, and break-ups.

Software (the ingredients), you can refer to this close approximation to the peanut sauce made for marinating the chicken and dipping (ignore the shrimp part, skip down to the peanut sauce portion). Chicken - you will need 4 breasts, or several chicken tenders if what is about to come disgusts you. Place plastic wrap on the cutting board, put a chicken breast on it, and fold the plastic wrap over (make sure to cut more than just enough to cover the board). Proceed to whack the chicken with the mallet until it is about 1/4 inch thick. Oh, and chicky pieces may spew out the sides depending on the force of the whamming. Cut flattened meat lengthwise into 1-inch strips. Repeat for all breasts. Place chicken pieces in large zip top bag with 1/2 to 1 cup of the peanut sauce mix and let marinate in the fridge for at least 2 hours. You can keep the leftover sauce (now the dipping sauce) on the counter if you are going to eat it that evening. If not, cover it and pop it in the fridge.

After letting it hang out in the fridge for 2 hours or more, take your bag out and skewer the pieces on (guess what?) skewers! (And go ahead and preheat your grill to 350 or 400 degrees.) My personal method is the "over, under, over" means, but go with whatever you like, just make sure those babies are on the skewer and will not fall off mid-cooking. And yes, this will be messy with the sauce and the rawness. After skewering, throw away the marinating bag. Do NOT use the remaining sauce for dipping unless you like E. coli and salmonella, mkay? And wash your hands, no one like peanut sauce and chicken juice fingerprints.

Plop the skewered meat on the grill leaving space between the skewers so the heat can circulate, cooking each side about 2-3 minutes. The first batch will be the test to see if you need to raise or lower the heat, make sure to cut into one skewer and check for doneness. After cooking all the meat, grab the dipping sauce and get to eating. This is a great group food as people can choose their own portion amounts and is a cleaner-to-eat version of buffalo wings or whatever they are called. Cook some rice or Asian noodles, use the meat for lettuce wraps, throw it on a salad. It is your food and your mouth, go wild!

Let them eat flapjacks

I have a sudden glut of topics to write about. And, unlike the highly organized and methodical person I am, I am going to forgo the ideal chronological order of these "discoveries" and cut straight to the latest, greatest, and freshest on my mind. Kerbey Lane pancakes. Go ahead and click on the link..see the pancakes in the background behind their name? Yeah, they are great. If you order a short stack that is by no means short, you get 2 pancakes as big as the plate and each about an inch thick. These, my friends, are pancakes. Pancake types include blueberry, buttermilk, apple whole wheat, and, my personal favorite, gingerbread. If you are ever in Austin long enough to allow you to eat, find a Kerbey Lane Cafe and enjoy pancakes, migas, breakfast tacos, or omelets. I have tried them all and there is not a weak player in the bunch.

Back to me and the pancakes. I was reading the Austin-American Statesman on my lunch break about a month ago and there was a note in the Food & Life section. This weekly section is devoted to letting readers know about new kitchen gadgets, chefs and restaurants in Austin, and seasonal food favorites around the area. And today, there was a little paragraph about how Kerbey Lane Cafe is now making their pancake mixes available at area HEBs. Could it be true, two of my favorite places combining forces and providing me with happy grocery shopping and pancakes? I hit the road to find out for myself.

HEB Plus at the corner of Anderson Mill and 620, around noon on a lazy Saturday, baking aisle, beside Aunt Jemima and Bisquick, a column of brown paper bags with the familiar logo donning its front. Kerbey Lane Cafe buttermilk pancake mix. The Hallelujah chorus rang out from the speakers and the overhead lighting shone a little bit brighter. Unfortunately, the gingerbread mix had sold out, but I snatched up a 2-pound bag of the buttermilk mix. Excitedly, I took the bag home and awaited a Saturday morning to make pancakes and lounge on the couch.

Cut to today. Not a Saturday, potential lounging on the couch, and a definite desire for breakfast at dinner. Out came the Kerbey Lane pancake mix! Little water, one egg, some oil, mix and batter was made. At this point there is something I must confess, two things actually. First, I love pancakes of all shapes and sizes. They are great with butter, syrup, peanut butter, jam, or fresh fruit. Secondly, I have many troubles making pancakes. I manage to char the outside without completely cooking the inside. Yuck. Understandably, I went into this a little nervous for my dear pancakes. Kept the stove temp down, did not overmix the batter as to keep the airiness of it.

After making 5 pancakes (as the directions told me they would - I like it when their portioning matches my portions), I took a pancake, buttered it and gave it a little syrup. I cut a wedge out from the round. I had to put my fork down after that first bite. Oh my. If you had asked me pre-Kerbey what a pancake should taste like, I would probably refer more to the sugary toppings and not the pancake itself. But now I know. These are the best pancakes I have ever had in my life, without a shadow of a doubt. They are light, springy, and tangy from the buttermilk. I could actually taste the pancake through the syrup and butter. As Paula Deen would say, "Ooh, honey. You better slap your mama, that's so good." Each bite was divine.

If there is an HEB or Kerbey Lane Cafe within an hour of you, go. Go now and get yourself some buttermilk pancake mix. And if HEB and Kerbey Lane Cafe are a little too far for you, order some online. Go all out and get a taste of all the kinds with the pancake mix trio, it is only $21. Your mouth will thank you. (And they include a recipe page with each bag with other things you can make with the mix like muffins, cookies, and crepes!)

Care to Remember?

This past weekend, I watched a documentary entitled Unknown White Male. I had heard about this film some time ago from a blog I read, and the premise intrigued me. Thirty-something man wakes up one morning on the New York subway, not visible injuries or trauma, and has no idea where he is or who he is. His episodic memory is completely gone, meaning he cannot remember any events from his life. Through a series of situations, he contacts someone who does know him, he is Doug, a British photographer, former stock broker. The film is his journey to reunite with people from his "other" life and sort through what he did and did not like about his old life.

As I watched film reel and heard stories about Doug's old life, I gathered that he and his group of friends were wealthy people with money to burn and fun to be had. Climbing mountains in Bolivia, summering on the Mediterranean, expecting and getting things when and how they wanted them. They were arrogant and did not care about the consequences. So, given this background, one would expect Doug to talk about how beautiful life is and great it is to get a chance to experience things all over again (fireworks, chocolate mousse, love, snow, etc.).

But Doug does not display a sense of loss over his memory. He comments that he is not sure he wants his memory back, and sees no real need to figure out what happened to make it go away. Sure he cannot remember growing up, his mother (who died), or all those little moments that grow a person, but he does not seem to mind.

So, the film is not looking at the loss Doug experienced, it must be focusing on the rebirth. Right? Wrong again. Doug goes to school to better his photography, there is some quip about how his portraits reflect loss, but to me it looked like a bunch of head shots of people staring, bored. Doug has a new girlfriend, but he gave all appearances that he was just along for the ride of the relationship. Although, when he talked about her, it was one of the few times we saw Doug happy and smiling.

Here is another issue brought up in some of the amazon.com reviews. It is quite possible this documentary is a fake. Filmmaker friends got together and thought how they could make a film that is different and would appeal to people by its synopsis. There is no way to prove this to be an actual event or not other than by talking with those in the project or friends of Doug. However, if it was a fabrication, what was the message the film was trying to send?

Eat, Pray, Love

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert is an okay book. Gilbert did not stun me with how intimate or transparent she was in her writing about her year-long journey through Italy, India, and Indonesia. Quick rundown of the story: Gilbert gets a divorce from her husband, does not know who she is or what she wants to do with her now-single life. So, she decides to take a year off from New York City and spend 4 months in Italy eating pasta and learning about passion, 4 months in India learning about Yoga and finding spirituality, and 4 months in Indonesia figuring out the balance between passion and spirituality. Or something.

To me, the book read like a self-help book. But not a self-help book to help the reader, a self-help book for Elizabeth Gilbert. And, if it were to be a self-help book for the reader, how many people could follow Gilbert's plan and spend a year traveling the world "finding" themselves? So much of the book seemed trite, immature and shallow. I think her goal was to instill an amount of humor and lightness to what could be seen as a pretty depressing time in her life. Yes, there were funny parts, but it was not a humorous book.

One of the issues, I think, was Gilbert's aim to have a balance with each section of the book (country) she went to. Italy was fun to read about, wine, gelato, and touring, but it read much like a newly-graduated college girl experiencing her first trip away from the parents. The Indonesia (Bali) section was colorful to read and I could feel how relaxing it must have been for Gilbert to be there. Which brings us to India. India went on for entirely too long. I got it, it was hard for Gilbert to stop thinking and just meditate. She did not like the song they had to chant every morning. She thought the Yogic master was intimidating. I do not need to read each of these things every other chapter. There was very little "light" side in the India section. I wanted to read about the food she ate, any illnesses she suffered from, any quirky people at the ashram. Something other than how hard it is to meditate and whether she still loved Daniel (old boyfriend) or not. Grow up, Gilbert.

Now, I am going to put forth a disclaimer. Perhaps I went into the reading of this book with wrong expectations. I thought it was going to be a travel journal about different cultures, foods, practices, and lives as viewed from the eyes of an all-American girl. So, when I began to read, the book came off more like the entries in a teenage girl's diary than a 30-something woman taking a year to seek out the commonalities and positive and negative differences between her life and the lives people live in Italy, India, and Indonesia. All-in-all, this book is no Julie and Julia, Heat or The Know-It-All.

The Happiest Place on Earth?

No, I am not talking about that castle with the talking mouse, duck with no pants, and soaring pachyderm. The location I am referring to is H-E-B. What is HEB? It is a grocery store. I know what you are thinking, "This gal is waxing eloquent about a supermarket? Does this place sell a life?!" No, it does not sell a life, but it does sell Life. HEB is a Texas-based company that was started by the Butt family (yes, that is their name) in Kerrville, Texas in 1905. Since then, HEB has expanded across Texas and even into Mexico. They are committed to serving Texas, both with the food in the store and in the community with camps for lower income families and supporting local events.

But what is it that makes HEB so great? First of all is the HEB brand food. Usually when you buy store-brand products, they can be a little sketchy. But I have yet to find an HEB product that is not comparable or better than a national brand product. For instance, HEB recently began producing their own fresh pastas that include ravioli, tortellini, long pastas, and short pastas, along with sauces. The bakery also has begun to make their own breads, both loaf and artisan, as well as tortillas, all of which are in my shopping cart.

Another great thing about HEB is its produce. HEB strives to attain whatever in-state produce it can get its hands on. This not only helps the Texas farmers, but also means HEB customers can get fruit and veggies that have not spent a week on a semi being shipped from Florida or California. Every time I go this summer, I can get Texas peaches, blueberries, ruby grapefruits, and other produce. The meat and seafood department is also great, especially the butchers and fish mongers. They know what they sell, and will readily suggest ways of cooking, marinating, or grilling whatever it is you want to buy. This is how I ended up with some steelhead trout when I intended to get tilapia.

However, the best part about HEB has to be the people. The people who work at HEB are perhaps the best service people I have ever encountered. They greet you with a smile and are willing to stop what they are doing to help you look for oyster sauce or rice noodles. They are committed to quality. If you notice you put the wrong kind of croutons in your basket, they will run to replace it with the right kind. If you have a passel of children with you, they will grab an extra cart and shop with you if it helps you at all. Every single time they are done bagging my groceries they ask if I need help to the car. This is in no way insulting or degrading to me, they just want to make sure my shopping experience continues to be enjoyable after I exit. Even the security guys standing at the doors are great. They cheerily wave and say "Have a nice day" or "See you soon" when I leave.

I contend that no grocery store is worth going to if you cannot leave happier than when you came. And HEB does that for me. They have everything I want from Kashi cereal to bulk Brazil nuts, freestone peaches to stuffed portobello mushrooms, and they are committed to helping their customers out in whatever capacity. So, that is why I heart HEB.

A Dinner of Tomato

My dinner last night. It was simple, unexpectedly good, and filling. This is not the first nor the last simple, good and filling dinner I have eaten. It simply exceeded all my taste expectations. What was it that I had that prompted me to write about it?

Soup. Yes, you are reading this correctly, I said soup. Soup in the middle of July...in Texas? Yes, hot soup in the middle of July in Texas. It can be done. I did it. The soup, to be specific, was Campbell's Select Gold Label Italian Tomato with Basil and Garlic. I have never been a fan of tomato soup. It has been salty, grainy, and a little bitter. But this tomato soup was rich, light, and a perfect balance of herbs and tomato. Each little box has two servings of one cup each, so you are by no means getting scrimped on how much you eat.

I paired the soup (paired sounds so chef-like and intentional) with some Cracked Pepper and Olive Oil Triscuits, my new favorite crunchy cracker of choice. These crackers are really good. The pepper creates a slightly spicy pop in the mouth and yields itself to feeling like you are eating a higher end cracker. Yes, there are such things as high-end crackers. I also had some smoked cheddar that I sliced and placed atop the Triscuits.

The soup, the crackers, the cheese. Every item complimented one another in flavor, texture and ease in creation. I am now a fan of the tomato soup, and am willing to try some other Campbell's Select Gold Label soups. If the others are as flavorful and rich as the tomato, I may have to institute a soup night every week.

American History X

American History X is a terrifying movie to watch. Terrifying for is visuals of murder, familial relations, race relations, and hatred. Terrifying at how persuasive Edward Norton, as Derek Vinyard, is in his white supremacist speeches, rants, and actions; not because they are so extreme, which they are, but because as the viewer, you begin to understand where he is coming from. Terrifying in how this film speaks to some of the conditions of our country. No one can trust anyone, and those you do trust may turn on you or not be what they seem.

However, American History X is also a movie that must be seen. It shows the tension on both sides of the black/white racial conflict. It speaks to how, while the US has worked so hard to right this situation, the situation still remains. It shows how we as white Americans cannot fully comprehend the struggles minorities face in America. One of the things the film best succeeds in displaying is how these ideas and motives are born from the people who have influence in your life. Derek was taught to hate blacks through his father, and he then passed that same hatred onto his brother. It was only after Derek murdered two black men and was sent to prison that he began to see the flaws in the white supremacists. While they spoke of not dealing with people of other races, within the prison, those same people were the ones they made deals with. Additionally, Derek is befriended by a young black man who shows him through simple words and actions that hatred only begets hatred. This same point is driven home through one of Derek's former (black) teachers who keeps up with him in prison, challenging him to rethink his focus. One of the key questions this teacher poses to Derek is "Has anything you've done made your life better?"

This is a movie that is extremely hard to look at, listen to, and take in at times. But it is a movie that reminds of the hatred in this world and, more importantly, how people can change, and redemption can happen.

Blue Like Jazz

I began reading Blue Like Jazz over a year ago on a slow day at work. One of my coworkers had it on his shelf, I had heard crumbs of goodness about it, so thought I would give it a try. It was enrapturing. Unfortunately, my coworker friend soon left, and so too did the book. Fast forward to another slow day and another coworker's shelf of books. I saw the blue spine, picked up the book, and have been (re)reading it for the past month or so.

This is a soul book. Don Miller speaks so honestly about faith, Christianity, acceptance, singleness, and life. Honestly, I am finding this review difficult to write because the book is so personal. While this book is about Don's journey, I found myself relating and reflecting on my life repeatedly throughout the book. Don grew up in a fundamentalist church and, as he got into his 20s, began wondering what does it mean to be a Christian, love Christ and people, have Christ and people love you, and believe in God. At times, his honesty about Christians and Christianity was tough to swallow. Not because it was always controversial, but because it was truth, and the truth was not great. Christians, we, say we love everyone, and yet we judge the poor, different, and outcasts among us. We believe in a "health and wealth" gospel that teaches us that if you are not successful in the American sense, something is wrong in your life. And that is not true.

There are an abundance of quotable sections from the book, but here is one that reflects Don's forthrightness and transparent take on part of the Christian culture. (Taken from pg. 218)

"The problem with Christian culture is we think of love as a commodity. We use it like money...If somebody is doing something for us, offering us something, be it gifts, time, popularity, or what have you, we feel they have value, we feel they are worth something to us, and, perhaps, we feel they are priceless. I could see it so clearly, and I could feel it in the pages of my life. This was the thing that had smelled so rotten all these years. I used love like money. They church used love like money. With love, we withheld affirmation from the people who did not agree with us, but we lavishly financed the ones who did."

If you consider yourself a Christian, spiritual, searching, or are just looking for a thought-provoking read, get this book and a pen or highlighter. It is rich with truth, life, love, and even some humor.

Pass it on

I have never seen a Broadway show, or even walked down Broadway for that matter. However, had I been in New York (or Hong Kong, New Zealand, Sydney, or London) when The History Boys came to town, I would have tried my hardest to see them. However, since that chance did not plan itself out ("f***king history" as some of the characters say), I decided that viewing the movie version of the play was the next best thing. No need to dress up or wait for intermission to go to the restroom, pretty good situation, I think.

The History Boys could be mentioned as a rite of passage, coming of age, lessons on life, the new Dead Poets Society film. But it deserves such better descriptors than just those. It is funny, dramatic, tongue-in-cheek, open, heart-wrenching and so much more. It revolves around eight public school boys who are all preparing for exams and interviews in hopes of getting into Oxford and other elite British colleges. Three teachers help them along the way, each with their differing styles, approaches, and emphases. And while each teacher seems somewhat contradictory to the other, some of the boys are able to find the balance between each of them.

Poetry and song is often quoted. The question, "what is history?" is wrestled over. The approaching exams and college interviews are so focused on it appears to the boys that college is the be all, end all for life. And yet, life happens in the interim. Some take risks, some work to the status quo, others act for others rather than themselves. All the meanwhile, the connect with history and thought and poetry. As Hector shared, "The best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - which you had thought special and particular to you. And now, here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out, and taken yours."

The History Boys is not a great film. There are no shootouts, CGI effects or "boy meets girl" love stories. But it is a good one, a solid one. One that follows you, leaves you thinking and reflecting. So, as a close, I will allow Hector to speak on my behalf, "Pass the parcel. That's sometimes all you can do. Take it, feel it and pass it on. Not for me, not for you, but for someone, somewhere, one day. Pass it on, boys. That's the game I want you to learn. Pass it on."

Barbecue Across America

I recently traveled northeast to to good state of North Carolina. (North Carolina cannot be called "great" because "great" is Texas.) Among my many goals while in North Carolina, more specifically Raleigh, was to taste this thing called "Carolina BBQ." Barbecue is bar-b-que is BBQ, right? Wrong. So very wrong. There are four agreed upon regions of US barbecue, and are broken up thusly:

Memphis - Pork ribs served either dry (straight from the smoker or grill) or wet (slathered in BBQ sauce).

Kansas City - Known less for the type of meat it highlights than the sticky sweet tomato-based sauce (KC Masterpiece, anyone?). Generally sauces are featured best on chicken or pork ribs.

Texas - Features smoked brisket, dry rub, smoker, and long and low cooking. The brisket is never sauced during the smoking/cooking process but may be served with sauce on the side when ready to eat.

Carolina - It is a Carolina BBQ joint if the menu featured pulled or shredded pork and a vinegar-based sauce. The pork is always slow roasted for the deep smoky flavor, then shredded (not sliced!) and possibly put on a bun before serving.

If you were to find four people who each grew up in one of these four regions and then asked them to choose which 'cue is best, don't hold your breath waiting for a decision. Being from Texas, I think that a good brisket, with its pink smoke ring and spicy crust of rub, is just about the best thing a person could savor. But, I am not so close-minded as to think all other BBQs are inferior. Just that Texas 'cue is a hair better. So, it was with this attitude I went to Ole Time Barbecue on the outskirts of Raleigh, North Carolina.

I do not think I have been to a place that better embodied "roadside cafe" than Ole Time Barbecue. It is literally on the side of the highway. A car could lose control and go crashing through the establishment at any moment. Which I think makes the eating experience all the more thrilling and unique. Upon entering, you seat yourself at any one of the 8 or so tables. Prominently showcased on the wall are pictures of family, awards they've won, the plaque saying they can seat no more than 49 people, and lots of down-home, Southern decor. I ordered water, much to the shock of my dinner companion who thinks the only drink that goes with Carolina 'cue is sweet tea. I am daring, but I also like my teeth in my mouth and sugar for dessert. I ordered the chopped BBQ pork plate with green beans and sweet potato sticks.

While waiting for the food to arrive, I devoured plenty of hush puppies. These hush puppies are divine. I know, I know, it is just fried dough, but that was some fantastic fried dough. Crunchy on the outside, pillowy on the inside. Not dry, not overly greasy, and not too heavy. The food arrived soon and looked pretty good. It came on a plate, which is uncommon with Texas 'cue, usually it is presented on some butcher paper. Green beans, mediocre. Sweet potato sticks, holy cow these are good! I do not know how or what they did to the esteemed sweet potato, but it was incredible. Like mashed sweet potato in the inside, crunchy shell on the outside. Yum, yum, yum.

It was time for me to try the pork. It did not look bad, sitting there shredded with little bits of what I assumed to be pepper seeds. I took a tentative bite.

I love brisket. I have mentioned this already, I know. Love brisket. And sausage. And smoked turkey. And chicken. Love it all. Love the sides (cole slaw, baked beans, and potato salad). Love the serving platter (paper). Love that you are allowed to get messy eating it. Love it all. But, my gracious, if pulled pork is not one of the best things this little mouth has tasted in a long while. I feel like I need to turn in my "Texan" card or something. I still love you brisket!

The pork was moist, perfectly flavored with vinegar and spices and rubs. It was simple. No need to add sauce, pepper, salt or anything. Simple and yet, I knew, this simple food took years for the owners of Ole Time Barbecue to master. I sat there in awe. However, I could not let my Carolinian dinner partner know my thoughts. I would not have heard the end of the Texas razzing. (Well, I guess you know now, huh? Oh well.)

That was a darn fine meal. But, at the table, there was a little bottle labeled "Texas Heat." So, even though Carolina 'cue got a point or few on the board, I have proof that Carolina still needs a little Texas.

How I Spent my Memorial Day

For my Memorial Day celebration last week, I ventured out into public areas without any nudging or prompting from outside sources (mom, dad, friends, desperate need for food). Yes, little hermit crab/homebody/anti-social (pick your descriptor) me voluntarily went outside the four walls of her apartment on a weekend. And I liked it. However, me enjoying this journey was due in large part to where I was going to.

I have a great love of books. They are little friends - memories of classes I had, people I met, feminist professors I did not quite "get." Sadly, some of them had to be rid of. In the end I believe I got rid of books associated with college courses I did not enjoy or do well in. Alonzo's Texas History anyone? How about the second half of African history, which makes little sense without first taking part one. You would think that would be an obvious assumption, but not obvious enough for my junior-in-college brain. So, with my two bags of unwanted books, I ventured to what could be a happiest place on earth - Half Price Books.

Half Price Books is glorious. It is like an animal shelter for books, except the books never die and they don't chew up your baseboards or leave "presents" on your carpet. Each store is unique because each store's bookshelves are stocked with whatever books your neighbors read. Apparently my neighbors like cheap romance novels. I dropped my bags of unwanted books off at the resale desk and began the hunt for replacement books. I wanted to purchase some classic books; Dracula, The Jungle, Frankenstein, and a beautiful hardcover Jane Eyre that was about $7. Also at the store I found a book I came across at a bookstore in college but did not purchase at the time, My War Gone By, I Miss It So. I will not go into details about this book because I shall give my take on it at a later point in time.

One book I could not find, however, was A Perfect Red, which I have read reviews of and desperately wanted to read for the past nine months. And yet, this book was not to be found. This book is quickly becoming the Holy Grail of books for me. I cannot find it anywhere; not the library, not Half Price, not Barnes & Noble. "Why don't you just order it online, then?" you ask. Because. Because I have such high hopes that this book will be great that I refuse to take the easy way out. I want to work for this book, or at least not cave into buying it online until I have let everyone in my birthday and Christmas gift-giving circle that this would make an excellent gift for me. Hint, hint.

The Half Price people called my name over the intercom, it was time to see how much money I was going to get for my two bags of books. Grand total was about $12. Yes, $12 represented the hours of labor it took me to read Talons of the Eagle, African Perspectives, and other sleep-inducing writings. Well, it is $12 worth of books I don't have to haul around anymore. I slowly approached the check out line, trying to think if there were any more books I could possibly want at a discounted rate, plus an extra 20% off for Memorial Day sale. No, I was set with my five books. With my discount and $12 off for my resale books, grand total came to about $10. Yes, you are not reading that incorrectly, ten dollars for 5 books. Oh, Half Price, how magnificent you are.

Mother's Day Meal

For this year's Mother's Day, I did not give mom jewelry or flowers or picture frames. I gave her the gift of food. My parents and I watch Food Network over our lunch breaks and, from time to time, my mom proclaims, "You can make that for me." I usually make a mental note of the recipe, and then forget it by the time I return to a place where I can download and/or print the recipe. But not this time, this time I was determined to remember. And remember I did.

In the past, I have prepared dinners for my parents, and with mixed results. Salmon last year was too herby, mom does not like risotto, and other culinary missteps. It is always something of a risk to make food when you are not sure if the eaters will appreciate it. Well, the eaters definitely appreciated this one.

For Mother's Day, I prepared Linguine with Shrimp and Lemon Oil. Nothing about it was difficult - boil pasta, saute garlic and shallots, cook shrimp, toss it all together - but the outcome is magnificent. White pasta with lemon oil (olive oil + lemon peel) clinging to it, pink shrimp, and slightly wilted green arugula. A good tell of the success of the meal is if there is any left over, which there was not. The slightly tart lemon plays well with the peppery arugula, which in turn highlights the lighter flavors of the shrimp and pasta. And, what is even better about this dish, is many components can be easily switched out; spinach for arugula, salmon filet for shrimp, etc. This adventure in cooking for others was an overwhelming success.

Coffee Macadamia Nut Brownies

This is the first time I have truly experimented with baking. I have cooked “create-a-meal” many times, using whatever I have on hand to form dinner (the latest evolution of this has been pasta salads). However, I have not leapt out into the baking arena to test the creative waters. Sure, I have changed the topping on a sugar cookie or used strawberry instead of raspberry jam, but never something like that. And, in all honesty, it was not that great a leap. And not that great a brownie, in my opinion.

It all started after I saw, tasted, and found Mary Louise Butters Brownies to be just about the best brownie on earth. And one of the flavors is Kona Buzz. Rather than spend 2 or 3 dollars on a large square, I thought I would see if amateur me could produce something similar. So I did.

I did not make my brownies from scratch, but from a box of brownie mix. I did not like the brownie mix, it was too dry and not chocolatey enough. Next time I will use a brownie mix I know to be good or make the batter from scratch. Depends on how much I want brownies versus how much time I have to make them.

Next, the coffee. I opted to use instant coffee, which I have used in the past for Espresso Brownies. Apparently, I did not use enough of the stuff because I could not taste or smell the coffee at all. I don’t know if I should use more next time, seek out instant espresso (an item that has thus far eluded me in grocery world), use brewed espresso, or ground coffee. My only fear with the brewed espresso is that I will need a lot of liquid to get the coffee taste in there and lead to soupy brownies that are not cakey and gooey, but hard and chewy. And the coffee grounds could work, it just depends on the grit factor.

Finally, the all-important macadamia nut. The only ones I could find at my store were salted. Not sure if that is what I want to use in the future as the salt overpowered a lot of the chocolate and coffee flavor. But other than that, great crunch, they did not sink to the bottom of the brownies, and I coarsely chopped them so there was a wide range of nut chunk size.

I have not heard from my tasting panel on what they thought of the brownies, but upon receiving them, there was much excitement and anticipation in the household. Experiment #1 was not an overwhelming success, but rarely is the first time around perfect. I have gained valuable knowledge and look forward to the next time I make these brownies. They may never be as good as Mary Louise Butters, but they will be mine.

Thanks, George Washington Carver!

We all have our addictions; some are more harmful than others (addiction to watching "American Idol" versus addiction to painkillers...though the former may necessitate the latter). And one of mine is peanut butter. I love peanut butter. On bread, crackers, apples, chocolate, cookies, and celery. The stuff just rocks. If I need a little mid-afternoon snack to tide me over until dinner - toast with peanut butter. When I desire an after dinner treat - milk chocolate chips and peanut butter. If I am having a bad day and I need a little comfort food - spoonful of peanut butter.

Because I love peanut butter does not mean I will eat anything that claims to be peanut butter. Not all peanut butters are created equal! Organic, crunchy, creamy, sweet,peanut flavor, spreadability - so many things to consider. Fortunately, Ed Levine has does some research for me, and my peanut butter, Jif, came in second place. Good job, Jif!

Why do I like Jif? Let's back up and answer the first peanut butter question - creamy or chunky? I have always been a creamy gal, it spreads well, does not dig into the bread, and taken from a spoon, the lack of peanut bits means I don't have to chew anything. And the crunchy peanut butter bits would get stuck in my teeth leading to awkwardly digging said bits out with one's tongue, finger, or toothpick. Second question - why not organic? I could say it is because it is too gritty or more expensive or something, but that would not be true. I remember one time growing up when my mom got organic peanut butter. There was a layer of oil in the jar, and that was gross. I do not want to stir my peanut butter, it should be a premixed food. Maybe organics have evolved since then, but no peanut butter can be my peanut butter if it does not pass the "enjoyable eaten straight from spoon" test. Beyond those two main issues, it is a matter of preference. Peter Pan was not thick enough and a little too sweet, off brand was dry, and Skippy I only know from when I visited my grandmother. So, Jif it is. It is peanut-y, smooth, goes well on bread, excellent with little pieces of chocolate, and has pretty colors on its label.

Choosy Allison chooses Jif!

**Update**

I read a shocking statistic today. Shocking in a good way, that is. Peanut butter helps the environment! Don't believe me? Go here and see for yourself. I suddenly feel so globally conscious. Off to eat a PB & J now. Helping the environment, one bite at a time...

Ramen Radiator

You would think that any recipe with the word "ramen" in its title would be a little suspect. Ramen is for college students and meals of desperation, not meant to be found in a book such as the one I discovered it in, Alton Brown's I'm Just Here for the Food. But there is was, in the chapter on boiling, Ramen Radiator. And then I looked at the ingredient list, "Halibut...huh," I thought, "and shrimp. Maybe this is worth testing." Ah, but the words that sealed the cooking deal for me came from Alton himself, "This is the coolest dish in the book, which is not to say that you shouldn't try the rest of the recipes. " If Alton says it is cool, it must be cool. The guy has flames painted on his mixer, led a motorcycle gang across country for "off the beaten path" eats, and his TV show on Food Network is great to watch even if you have no desire to cook. Trust me, you will like Alton. I know I do.

Back to the food. If you have an oven, a skillet, and foil, you can make this dish. Do not be afraid because it contains fish, shrimp, and strange sauces, the oven does most of the work for you. I followed the recipe, stuck it in the oven, still a little skeptical. Smelled different than I expected, but different should not mean bad, only not the usual smells of tomato sauce or olive oil. After it finished cooking, I took the packet out of the oven (you cook the "soup" in the foil) and opened it. Still smelled different, but the halibut looked good, and nothing leaped out to kill me. And then I took a bite.

I do not remember most meals I eat; probably would not remember what I ate yesterday if you were ask me. And, those meals I do remember are because of the people with me and what happened while enjoying a meal. But this, this meal I will remember because it is perhaps the best meal I have ever had. It was perfection. The halibut was flaky. The shrimp, which usually ends up rubbery, was juicy and crunchy. The broth, veggies, and ramen were scrumptious. As a whole, the "soup" was spicy, sweet, and salty, a veritable firework of flavor for my taste buds. It is a dish so good that I want to make it weekly, but will not because it deserves to be honored and reserved for special occasions, like birthdays, holidays, and Fridays.

Ah, I can see your wheels turning. You are beginning to get a little frantic. You have checked and, no, I have not linked to this recipe. That is because it is not online. It can only be found in Alton's book. So, go buy it, your taste buds will love you! However, if you cannot wait, I was able to find a similar recipe called Ramen Shrimp Pouch. Try it out and, if you want to live dangerously, reduce the shrimp quantity, add a little halibut and see what happens.

A Rumor of War

Written by Philip Caputo after his tour of duty as a Marine at the outset of the Vietnam War, A Rumor of War provides a personal account of what it was like to join in this "splendid little war" before it morphed into what some look at now as a blemish on American history. How did I come across this book? It was assigned by one of my favorite professors in college, and one I did not finish reading at the time. I was only able to get through the first few chapters before it was time to move onto the next book. But, even from those few chapters, I knew this was a book I had to return to read and give it the time and attention it merited.

Caputo entered Vietnam idealistic, ready for an adventure, prepared to answer the call President John F. Kennedy sent forth, "Ask not what your country can do for you..." These boys went out seeking adventure and glory, and were met with the invisible killers of Viet Cong, disease, and booby traps, living the nightmares found in the the confining and confusing jungle of their surroundings and minds. They began with excitement, which turned to apathy, which grew into a rage so strong that Caputo, who in the book seems a voice of reason, set aside the ideals of duty, honor, and country in order to answer that question, "why?" Why were they there? Why did his friends die? Who killed them? From these questions, Caputo and others decided any Vietnamese person they encountered was Viet Cong, and so they sought after and murdered to understand "why."

Since most of my history classes in high school took longer than expected on one era in history, and in college I focused on other times in history, most of the 20th century's history is unclear to me. In a way, I feel like 1900 arrived and everything socially, politically, and economically became more fractured and complicated. Maybe this assumption is correct, maybe it is just me. What A Rumor of War provided me was an eye not into the inner workings of the politics, history, or economics surrounding the United State's entrance into Vietnam, but a discovery of the country, adulthood, death, and hatred alongside Caputo and his buddies. A history unable to be told with policies, speeches, and posturing, but through the voices, lives, and deaths of the sons of America.

Almond Biscotti, or How I Learned My Lesson

I don't know if there is a written set of kitchen laws, but if there were, I imagine one of them would be "follow directions." I did not follow that code when I made Almond Biscotti recently. I added all the correct ingredients in their proper order, but then came the instruction "divide dough in half" to form two loaves. But, there did not seem to be a lot of dough to go around, and I did not want little measly biscotti, I wanted biscotti of substance. So, I disregarded the recipe creator's instruction and made one loaf.

Well, while in the oven, the dough spread just a little and when I took it out to slice it and bake it again, the loaf was a little doughy. So doughy that clumps of the mixture stuck to my knife. I returned it to the oven to bake a little longer. It was still doughy, but I wanted biscotti now, not later. So, I sliced the loaf and baked, and baked some more, and some more. They ended up edible, but not as crunchy as I had hoped, and a little too big. Imagine that.

Take aways:

• Follow the directions for at least the first attempt at any recipe.
• Do not drown the top of the biscotti with sugar. Biscotti is supposed to taste like almonds, not sugar cubes.
• Add a little more flour next time; the dough was quite sticky.
• Follow directions. I am not smarter than the creator of the recipe. At least not yet.