Dazed and Confused

No More Fried Food!

Last week I went to the Malice Domestic mystery conference and the Festival of Mystery in Oakmont, PA.  That meant traveling.  Traveling seems to equal fried food. 

Why is it you can't get a decent meal on the road?  I swear, if I see another burger and fries any time soon, I'm going to have hysterics.

The big treat of the Malice Conference is the publisher-sponsored dinner at a very fancy restaurant.  The food is impeccable, but it's terribly rich.  We waddled away from the table.  The one time I actually got to eat healthy was breakfast at the hotel.  I ordered the world's worst oatmeal.  Adding raisins, milk, and even brown sugar didn't improve it.  One of my table mates ordered a continental breakfast which came with a HUGE bowl of granola.  It was only sprinkling the oatmeal with the granola that made it edible. Consequently, I was glad to get home and eat real food.  (Dorothy was right.  "There's no place like home!")

Speaking of real food, I came home with a few bags of author swag from the conference.  What's that got to do with food?  The Cozy Chicks are giving away their leftover swag (which is in my possession) to anyone who writes a review on Amazon or Barnes and Noble for their cookbook, The Cozy Chicks Kitchen.  (Each packet includes bookmarks from all the Cozy Chicks, plus a bonus recipe and adorable teapot cookie cutter.)  To get your swag, you must email the Chicks at cozychicks(at)gmail(dot)com and tell them where the review is posted.  Don't forget to include your snail mail address.

Since I've got author swag left over, too, I figured -- why not ask for the same thing.  Put up a review for my Victoria Square cookbook, Recipes To Die For, and email me at LLB(at)LLBartlett(dot)com and tell me where you posted the review and include your snail mail address. 

These cookbooks are filled with wonderful recipes -- the majority of which do not include food being immersed in cooking oil.  If you haven't tried them, maybe now you will.

I'll have mine with lemon

Earlier this year, when I was on vacation, I had a glass of water with every meal.  With lemon. I liked it. A lot.  So, when I came home, I thought ... I'd drink more water if it had lemon in it.

Wow--what a concept!

One of the reasons I haven't been drinking enough water is that after a while it seems to get "stale."  A flat, metalic taste.  Guess what?  Pour a BIG mug of water, toss in a lemon slice, and no more flat taste, even if it sits for an hour or more.

I've even got so I like hot water with just lemon in it.  And, I can use the same (thick) lemon slice all day.  I just keep refilling the cup.

Are you fully hydrated?

It's so cozy (and tasty)!

For those who don't know, I'm a member of the Cozy Chicks blog and I post on Saturdays.

We're like-minded cozy mystery writers who've banded together to talk about our lives, our writing, and ... food.  As it happens, we all love to eat (and it shows more on some of us than others).  With that in mind, we decided to put together The Cozy Chicks Kitchen, a collection of killer recipes.

We had such fun picking out a title, a cover picture, and collecting more than 100 recipes--some written by us, some "written" by our characters--and let me tell you, mouthwatering?  You better believe it!

In fact, that's just how Julie Hyzy, author of the White House Chef and the Manor House Mysteries put it.  She said:  "THE COZY CHICKS KITCHEN is chock full of mouthwatering gems. Everything is here: main dishes, desserts, salads, soups, drinks, and did I mention desserts? Don’t miss this fabulous collection. I’ve got both the ebook version and a hardcopy. Get yours today!"

The ebook edition is now available, but fear not--the trade paperback is in the works and will be ready in the next 2-3 weeks.  I'll let you know when it comes out.  But for now, if you've got an e reader you can find it for: 

Kindle  ~  Nook  ~ and for all other ereaders at Smashwords.

We hope you enjoy meeting and eating with us and our characters!

Oh, the mail I get ...

Oh the mail I get ... I think that's a standard title for one of Lee Goldberg's regular topics on his blog, (which I read religiously).  He usually gets mail from someone asking an outrageous favor (like, here I am a COMPLETE stranger--please drop everything and help me promote my book.... (oh, yeah.  I got one of those last week, too), or a nasty fan (?) letter (I also got one of those last week).

The other day I got a note from a reader saying:  "In 'Sentenced to Death' Angelica makes puppodums in the microwave. I've never heard of these, but when I looked them up no one seems to make them in the microwave."

Well, I do!  Okay, the instructions say you're supposed to fry them in a skillet ... or something like that. Fuggetaboutit!  Who has time? And who wants to clean an oily skillet when God gave us microwaves to make our lives easier?

It took a couple of years of trial and error (hey, I've been busy writing books and stuff!), but I've now got it down to a science and I am happy to share my secret with the rest of the world. (Hold your applause until the end of this post.  Thank you.)

First of all, I had to experiment with the timing.  Too long and they burn to a crisp.  Not long enough and they're horrible.  And never try to cook a puppodoum in the microwave if you line your glass plate with paper towel.  Either that, or stand by with a fire extinguisher.

I found the best way to cook puppodums was on a Syracuse China plate.  (Any heavy duty restaurant plate will do, I just happen to collect their Americana pattern.)  I found this dinky plate, and it's brother, at a yard sale.  (Yeah, I could go to Replacements.com and buy the entire set for a gazillion dollars, but I prefer the thrill of the yard-sale hunt.) 

Next up, preparing the puppodum.  I squirt mine with I Can't Believe It's Not Butter spray. (I used to use the garlic version, but because I liked it they discontinued it.  Product manufacturers always discontinue something the minute I decide to use it.  Good thing I don't buy Oreos, huh?)  You can use any cooking spray, like PAM, as well.  After three or four squirts, I use my finger and distribute the ICBINB to evenly coat the puppodum.  I place it on the little plate, and into the microwave it goes. 

BTW, I have no idea what my microwave wattage is, and must admit I really don't care.  This microwave takes 45 seconds to cook the puppodum to perfection.  (It takes a lot less if you just toss it on the glass plate inside your microwave--about 20-22 seconds, but as I mentioned, sometimes they burn. The heavy china must distribute the heat better.  That's my story and I'm sticking with it.)  If this seems like a l-o-n-g time, you can do something else while you wait.  I like to drink a glass of skim milk when I eat curry, so usually my lunch is ready (today I'm thinking of having MTR alu muttar on rice) and too hot to eat anyway (did I mention I like my food PIPING HOT?), so 45 seconds is more than enough time to pour a glass of your favorite beverage.

The end result may look like a dinosaur scab, but it tastes just fine.  (If you like lental flatbread, that is.)

So there you have it:  puppodums cooked in the microwave.

(It's okay to applaud now.)

I love answering questions about my books and, quite honestly, rarely get them.  So if you've wondered about anything in the books--please, ask away.  (It's hard coming up with new ideas for blog posts.)

 

 

No cheating. Not now. Not ever?

Can you believe it?  Here we are in the second week of January and there is STILL holiday food hanging around and taunting me?

Okay, so it isn't really holiday food. 

No candy canes. 

No cut-out cookies (they're long gone).

No fruitcake.  (Okay, we didn't have any of that -- and I wouldn't have eaten it anyway ... just sayin'.)

But we got several gift baskets of yummy things that have delicious things.  Like cheese.  Crackers.  CHOCOLATE COVERED COOKIES!!!

The easiest way to resist them is NOT to open them.  Okay, got that.  But do these goodies have to come with a voice?

"Come here.  I'm delicous.  Eat me!"

I feel like Alice in Wonderland, only I won't get smaller if I eat them, and that's been the goal.

Do you still have holiday treats hanging around?

Salty and sweet treat

I love chocolate covered pretzels.  The only problem is ... if you buy them, you HAVE TO EAT THE WHOLE BAG.  Now, I'm trying to lose weight -- not so easy to do during the holidays.  So ... I decided to make just a few.

I already had a jar of mini pretzel rods.  I found a little liqueur glass in the cupboard (now, where did it and its brothers come from?) which was just the right size for dipping.

 Next, I filled it with chocolate chips and melted them in the microwave.  (About 45 seconds.)

Next, I dipped the pretzels in the glass and rolled them in non-pareils.

A bit messy. I ended up getting out my frosting knife and smearing the pretzels with chocolate and then sprinkling them with the non-pareeils.  But in the end, they looked just fine.

They were YUMMY -- and not too many to ruin the old diet (especially since I shared them).

An easy-to-make holiday treat.

Have you ever made them?  (Would you?)

A Visit To The Farmer's Market

Yesterday I had to go to the dentist.  The news was NOT good.  I've been stalling on yet TWO MORE CROWNS (one is to replace an old leaky one) for three years now and can't put it off any longer.  (Wahhhhh!)

So what do I do to celebrate the loss of a ton of money?  I go to the local Farmers Market.

Let me tell you, it was COLD.  I was only there for about 15 minutes and I froze. I can't imagine what those poor farmers feel like at the end of a long day of selling veggies.  And quite a few of them have given up for the season, for there weren't half as many vendors.  Still, the brave few that were there sold enough to empty my wallet.

I bought leeks and potatoes.  Guess what I'm having for lunch today?  Leek and potato soup. (And you can find the recipe for it here on my website.)

I bought two acorn squashes and one butternut squash (they were on special: 3 for $2). 

I bought Brussels sprouts on the stalk.  Can you say roasted in olive oil with a little fresh ground pepper?

I bought a lovely (and huge--the size of a bowling ball) cabbage for $1.  We're going to make our own version of cabbage rolls (with the same thing we stuff green peppers.  Yum-EEEEE).

Last night we had the most delicious cauliflower.  I made enough for my mom, and there's still enough for a bunch more meals. 

We are going to be eating our veggies for the next week.

The grocery store charges by the pound.  The Farmers Market charges by the item (and usually less than what the grocery store is selling it per pound.)  The market will be open this year until November 19th.  Can you say "Thank Goodness For My Chest Freezer?"

What did you get at the market?

Pet Peeve Thursday--Bill me the proper price

More than a month ago, I ordered a book from Hoffman Media called Scones & Tea.  Yes, it's by the people who put out Teatime and Victoria Magazines.  Now, I've ordered stuff from them before and never had to wait more than a couple of weeks to get it.  This one ... took 6 weeks.

When I opened the package, I noticed there was a bill inside and a note that said I had ordered via check and underpaid.  No, no, no.  I ordered right from their email and paid via my credit card.  Now, truth be told, I don't remember if the shipping was free or not, but since I've ordered from them before (and since) and there was never a shipping fee before, I assumed the shipping was included in the $19.99 price.

Nope.  Now they want $4.

I sent them a note telling them that I did NOT order by check and that I believed the shipping was free.  Guess what--it wasn't Hoffman media that answered my email.  It was some fulfillment house.  (Probably they're the ones who sat on my order for 6 weeks.)  Make no mistake, they want that four bucks, and there was no "Dear Customer," no apology for whatever misunderstanding that may have happened, no explanation, no nothing--just a statement that says I owe and I need to pay it ASAP.

This is NOT good customer service, and not what I expected from a company that prides itself on Southern hospitality.  First of all, they should have acknowledged that I didn't pay by check.  They should also have given me some explanation as to why when ordering by credit card the shipping was NOT included. They did neither. "PAY UP SISTER" was their message.

It's too bad I really enjoy these magazines, or I could just ignore them and never order another thing from them again.  But I still want to read those magazines.

I tried to call and was on hold so long that I was in danger of using up my cell phone minutes for the month.  (Which is why I ended up emailing.)  But I'm not happy about this situation.  Would I have paid an extra $4 for this book had I known the cost was $4 more? Maybe -- maybe not.  But having to pay extra after you've already received the book?  Not amusing.

And I haven't even opened the book.  Now, to quote Seinfield, "it's got a taint."

Have you ever had an experience like this before?  If so, what did you do?

The harvest was good

Oh, how I lamented the loss of half of my bean crop.  Mr. Bunny (Groundhog ... whatever) ate HALF of my beans.  Nipped them right at ground level, ate a couple of leaves, and left the rest of the plant to die on the poles.  Mr. Bunny got dispatched to the Police Academy (thanks to Animal Control) and the rest of my bean crop was safe.

And boy, as a memorial to their eaten brothers, have these guys gone into overproduction.  We're up to our eyebrows in beans.  But then, I always overplant because I expect Mr. Bunny's relatives to eat at least some of them.

It's been very difficult to pick the bean crop.  Hurricane Irene didn't bring any rain our way, but we sure got a LOT of wind and it blew over not only the bean poles, but the tomato cages, too.  Everything's a mish-mash and it's hard to get in and find the beans.  But Friday we picked half a grocery bag of them because there's no way we could eat them all now.  And thus began the job of freezing them.

Since it's been so hard to pick the beans (there's a fence to contend with, plus we're trying to grow new grass on the other side of it), a lot of them are far too big and tough to eat.  No problem!  We've had problems getting seeds for the variety of beans we prefer. And, in fact, most of this year's crop was from seeds I collected two and three years ago.  They came up just like clockwork.  The pile of beans on the right are just some of the ones I'm drying for next year's seed crop.

After blanching, they went into the ice bath (which in this case happens to be the top of my Tupperware cake tote).

By the time we'd sorted through the beans, we got six bags to freeze.  I estimate we'll have at least that much to do today, too.

Yeah, we could buy a bag of frozen beans for $1.99 that would probably last us for 2-3 meals, but this is so much more satisfying.  I guess only another gardener would understand.

What have you frozen or canned from your veggie garden this year?

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By the way, today I'm guest blogging on my friend Dru-Ann Love's blog, Dru's Book Musings about my new cookbook, RECIPES TO DIE FOR. I hope you'll come by to see what Katie Bonner has to say about the book.

And It's A REAL book!

The other day, I got my proof copy of RECIPES TO DIE FOR: A Victoria Square Cookbook.  My first reaction was:  Gosh, it's cute!  First of all, the cover pops right out at you.  I love the logo my cover designer made--which sort of reminds me of the covers on the Booktown Mysteries.  But I also love the noose hanging from my name, too.

Although it's a paperback, it's not a mass-market paperback (the size of the novels--this one is bigger...trade size).  One of the complaints I get about the paperbacks is that the type size is too small.  Fear not, this is readable.

But what makes this cookbook special?  (And believe me it is NOT a mystery.  It's a companion piece to the Victoria Square Mystery series.)  The book starts out by introducing quite a few of the characters from the series and giving the reader information that isn't included in the books.  Katie's introduction tells how she came to live with her beloved great aunt Lizzie, and her love of baking.  But you'll find out (hopefully) interesting facts about people like Luther Collier, who owns the local funeral parlor, and vendors Liz and Gwen, who have a much greater presence in the third book than the first two.  But Ida Mitchell, the tag room manager, contributes a couple of her favorite recipes, too.

And the print book differs from the e book because it has graphics.  (I wonder if you can guess what recipe this graphic represents?)

I had a lot of decisions to make about the pricing of the book.  One thing I wanted to do was keep the cost down.  Hey, these are tough times, but the distribution options weren't as attractive as I would have hoped.  In order to make the book available to many retail organizations, the MINIMUM I had to charge was $6.99.  (I may yet have to charge that, but for the now the book costs $5.99.)  Even then, I would make only 17 cents per copy sold.  Therefore, I've chosen to only make it available from My e Store (via the publisher) and on Amazon.  I know--a lot of people don't like Amazon, but selling it on the Barnes & Noble site means I'd only make that same 17 cents a copy, and let's face it ... the author should make more than 17 cents a copy on a book sold.

The book went live just last night My E Store, where it can now be ordered (and where I'll get the highest royalty).  By next week it should show up on Amazon.  I'll let you know when that happens.  But for now, if you'd like to order a print copy of the book, you can find it here.

It's also available as an e book from:  Kindle ~ Nook ~ Smashwords (which has can be downloaded for all e formats).

I hope you'll give Recipes To Die For a chance!

 

Everything comes to she who waits . . .

Way back in 2008, I blogged about how I wanted a GT Express 101 counter top cooker thingy.  (And if you missed that post, you can read it here.)  It was being sold on an infomercial for $40 (for two) with an astronomical shipping price.  Suffice to say, I didn't buy it.  I figured I probably couldn't use two of them and didn't have anyone to give the second one to.

I must've watched that infomercial at least 100 times. I could practically recite along with the hostess Cathy Mitchell and her pal Joe, who cooked all kinds of omelets, cakes (with bite-size Snicker bars in the middle), enchiladas, cornbread, and all kinds of neat stuff -- in ten minutes or less!

Boy, I really wanted one . . . but I got over it and moved on.

Earlier this summer, I saw a used one at a yard sale, but it didn't have the recipe book.  I came back a second time and looked at it longingly . . . but decided that at $3 and no recipe book, it wasn't going to come home with me.

And then ... last weekend I saw another one, BRAND NEW IN THE BOX for $5.  You never saw anyone peel off five bucks as fast in your whole life.  It had everything, the little flipper-overer, a bottle to measure pancake batter, and best of all, the recipe book full of 101 recipes.  Woo-hoo! 

It was with great anticipation that I fired that baby up. Since the infomercial touted it as great for using up small quantities of leftovers, that's where I started.  I beat a couple of eggs, tossed in some leftover parsley potatoes and a half a slice of Swiss cheese to make my very first omelet.

The booklet said it would take 7 minutes to cook.  I peeked halfway and shook my head.  It was going to take a LOT longer.  But then the 7 minutes was up (I used my handy dandy kitchen timer) and gosh darnit if that little omelet wasn't done to a turn.  Of course, then it was time to get that baby out of the GT express 101. The flipper overer looks like it should be easy to use, but it felt awkward in my hand.  I had to use my left hand to get the omelet out of the left hand side of the cooker.

Was this omelet any better than I could have made in my omelet pan?  Probably not.  Was it easier to use?  Yes, because I didn't have to stand there and baby it. Did it taste better?  I would've tasted a lot better if I'd cooked it in a big  gob of butter, but they tell you NOT to add more than cooking spray, and therefore you get healthier food.  

Was it everything they advertised?  I'd say yes.  Of course, I've only used it once, but I have a feeling I'll use it again.  Maybe not tomorrow, but soon.  Will I ever use it for anything other than an omelet?  That's debatable.  But it is easier to clean than my omelet pan, so ... what the heck.

Have you ever used an AS SEEN ON TV product that worked?

 

Where's my bowl and spoon?

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the Soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld.  Not that I particularly liked any of the the episodes but that nasty line of dialogue, "NO SOUP FOR YOU!" keeps repeating in my ear.

Why?

Because I love soup.  I've been making a lot of soup these past two years, and soup and hot weather just don't go together. 

Don't tell me to make a chilled soup.  Ick!  (And some of them are just plain weird.  Chilled watermelon soup?  Why not just say watermelon slushy?)

I've got a hankering to make black bean soup.  And 16 bean soup.  And I've been afraid to make my own dahl (lentils) just . . . because.  (Have you ever seen the yards-long ingredient list?)

But in the last couple of days the weather has gotten . . . nice.  We're talking not horribly humid, and not devastatingly hot.  And what am I thinking about?

Soup! 

I love leek and potato soup and included the recipe in one of my books (Bookmarked for Death?).  I haven't made that one in a while.  Seems to me there's usually snow on the ground when I make it, although the last time I made it was in October 2009.  I made it for my Dad who'd just been transferred back from the hospital to the nursing home.  It was the last real meal that he ate.  (And I fed it to him, spoonful by spoonful.)  Maybe that's why I haven't made it.  It's too painful remembering.  But I made it with love in my heart and he was grateful to eat it.

But back to that 16 bean soup . . . I only recently found out I can BUY frozen hamhocks at Wegmans.  (Who knew?) 

I'm not in a hurry to see summer end (especially now that the weather has calmed down a little), but ... I'm ready for a nice bowl of hearty soup.  (And no, not made with any kind of animal hearts.  Ick.)

What's your favorite soup?

Worth waiting for?

Back in late May, my friend Janet sent me a bottle of her homemade maple syrup.  She and her husband tap the trees on their property in Michigan.  They get about 30 gallons of the stuff, which she says boils down to a gallon or two of maple syrup. It takes HOURS and HOURS to boil the stuff down.  They share this bounty with friends and relatives.  I feel really HONORED to be among them.

So, there we were at our cottage in early June, with plans to break open (although not literally) the bottle and have a terrific breakfast of waffles and bacon.  We'd planned that for Sunday morning.

Saturday morning Mr. L said, "I have a stomachache."  I didn't think much of it because as someone with frequent (although not so much anymore) heartburn, I always had a stomachache.  But if I had been really listening alarm bells should have gone off.  Mr. L is NEVER sick.  He NEVER has a stomachache. He hasn't puked in over 40 years.  (I sure wish I could say that.)

And so . . . later in the day Mr. L decided that his stomachache was getting worse--as in 'Take me to the ER" worse.  Except that he really didn't make a fuss.  By the time he got seen, the resident on duty said, "On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is the pain."  Mr. L quite calmly said, "Ten."

Whoa!  When Mr. L had his knee replacement surgery, I don't think he said the pain was every worse than a five.

When they finally released him from the hospital two days later (yeah, he hand an infected gall bladder), they gave Mr. L a list of foods NOT to eat.  And what was on there?  Waffles. (He could have just mainlined the syrup--there's no fat in it, after all.)

So, seven weeks (and 24 pounds) later, Mr. L finally got his waffles on Sunday.

Yummy!  (Still waiting for that bacon.  Maybe next week.)

Cooking with Gertie

I may not be the best cook in the world, but I am an absolute SUCKER for cookbooks.  Especially cookbooks with gorgeous photography.

But the last cookbook I bought didn't have a single picture.  In fact, it doesn't even have paper pages--it's a cookbook that's only available as an E book for my Kindle.

It's Deb Baker's COOKING CAN BE MURDER, which is a Gertie Johnson Backwoods story. 

Have you ever read Deb's Gertie Johnson stories?  Well, they're funny and I think you'd enjoy them.  (Hey, I did!)  They are:  Murder Passes The Buck, Murder Grins and Bears It, and Murder Talks Turkey.  They're all available as E books and the first two (and I'm sure the 3rd will soon be) available as trade paperbacks. (They all have wonderful new covers, too!)

COOKING CAN BE MURDER is written from Gertie's point of view, and Gertie has a lot to say--about food, cooking, and life in the UP (Upper Peninsula of Michigan).  I found it delightful.

So, if you've got an e-reader, and if you like simple, easy recipes (I'm going to try a few of them), get yourself a copy of Cooking Can Be Murder -- and be prepared laugh.

It's available for Kindle ~ Nook ~ Sony E Reader ~ Diesel - Smashwords

P.S.  Deb is a friend of mine, but she had no idea I bought the book or that I would talk about it on the blog.

Top 'O The Mornin' To Ye

Boy do I look forward to St. Patrick's Day.  Okay, so they don't make a big deal out of it in Ireland, and they don't eat corned beef and cabbage.  Well, we do.

It's hard to find a corned beef that isn't ginormous, but we try.  And in addition to the beef and cabbage, we add carrots and potatoes.  Yum, yum. 

But best of all, we have Irish Soda Bread.  It's the only time of the year we make it, and we always make it together.  Over the years we've tried several recipes and tweaked them.  This is the final result. I hope you like it!

Irish Soda Bread
4 cups all-purpose flour
¼ cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1½ cups buttermilk
¼ cup corn or canola oil
2 teaspoons caraway seeds
1 cup golden raisons
1 tablespoon milk


Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Foil-line a baking sheet, lightly grease.

In a large bowl, stir the flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, and salt together.  In a separate bowl, beat the eggs, buttermilk, and oil together.  Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and pour in the buttermilk mixture.  Add the caraway seeds and raisins.  Stir until a soft dough forms.

With floured hands, shape the dough into a large ball on a lightly floured board or waxed paper.  With a sharp knife, make an X across the top of the dough.  Place the dough on the prepared baking sheet.  Brush the top with milk.  Bake in the center of the oven until golden brown (30 to 40 minutes).

Serve warm with butter.

(P.S.  Tastes grand with a glass of Irish Whiskey.)

Ah, the aroma of cinnamon

This diet is driving me nuts. I'm dreaming about all the foods that are BAD for me.

 This morning I awoke with one thing on my mind:  Cindy's Cinnamon Rolls.

 

You see, a new franchise just opened up at the mall down the road and . . . well, it's been at least two years (maybe three) since I had one.

But, I'll be good and NOT rush to the mall this morning.  I'll have yet another English muffin squirted with I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

What're you having for breakfast this morning?

Oooh, yummy!

Got a hankering for scones?  Here's a really easy recipe that comes out right every time:

2  cups Original Bisquick® mix 
1/3  cup finely chopped raisins (or sultanas, currants, or other dried fruit)
3  tablespoons sugar 
1/3  cup whipping (heavy) cream 
1  egg 
2  tablespoons milk 
2  tablespoons sugar 
     
Heat oven to 425ºF. Grease cookie sheet. Mix Bisquick, fruit, 3 tablespoons sugar, the whipping cream and egg until soft dough forms. Turn dough onto surface dusted with Bisquick; roll in Bisquick to coat. Shape into ball; knead 10 times.

Pat dough into 8-inch circle on cookie sheet (if dough is sticky, dip fingers into Bisquick). Brush dough with milk; sprinkle with 2 tablespoons sugar. Cut into 8 wedges but do not separate.

Bake about 12 minutes or until golden brown; carefully separate wedges. Serve warm.

Enjoy!

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By the way, I sent out my latest E newsletter today.  You didn't get it?  Check your SPAM folder.  Not there?  Did you sign up?  You can sign up right here on this blog.  Scroll down to find the form.

And I don't even really like them . . .

In order to lose weight, you have to feel motivated.

After much thought and (a little embarrassment), I feel motivated.

Therefore, today starts week two of THE DIET. 

Mr. L hasn't weighed in yet (hey, he's still in bed as I write this), but I have.  He did tell me four days into the diet, "I've ONLY lost three pounds."  ONLY--ONLY!!!  At that point I had not lost an ounce! 

Let's face it, men lose weight easier than women, and for him to complain at ONLY three pounds really annoyed me.

But today was weigh-in day and I'm happy to say I lost 2.5 pounds.

What a relief. 

I know better than to complain,"Oh, I ONLY lost 2.5 pounds."  Try carrying half a bag of sugar around the house for about fifteen minutes and you begin to think, "Hmm.  2.5 pounds isn't that bad."

Of course we're doing Atkins and they tell you LOSE UP TO 15 POUNDS IN TWO WEEKS. 

Maybe if I cut off part of a leg or something, and I value my legs too much for that.

Because you eat a lot of protein, you don't feel hungry all the time, and that has made this diet easier to take.  Except for the "forbidden food" dreams.  Last night I dreamed of homemade beignets.  Mind you, I"ve never had one IN MY LIFE (and I done even really like doughnuts), but there was this big conference room with a lot of tables arranged in a big square and every surface was filled with warming trays full of beignets.  Inside the square was a woman and a man hard at work keeping those trays filled, while people came and went, putting piping hot beignets on a plate and leaving the area to enjoy it, cocktail party style.

I grabbed a bignet and broke it open. It was still steaming and it was GREEN inside (must've been a St. Paddy's day beignet) and I was about to take a bite when . . . I woke up.

What do you dream about when you're on a diet?

What you won't see on Saturday . . .

Last night I dreamed that I served chocolate cannoli at my launch/signing on Saturday for A Crafty Killing.  (Barnes & Noble, Greece Ridge Center, Saturday, Feb 5th 2-4 p.m.  I've got goodie bags for the first 25 people.)

This is unusual for two reasons.

First:  The bookstore doesn't like people to bring in food.  It interferes with sales in the Starbucks that's also inside the store, and they have a very nice glass case that's filled with incredibly fattening (and incidentally delicious) decadent desserts.

Second:  I don't like cannoli--chocolate or otherwise.  (I know, weird isn't it?)

For my very first signing, I baked about eight dozen toll house chocolate chip cookies.  It was held in a small indie bookstore in the boondocks and about a dozen of my loyal co-workers and friends showed up.  (And we forgot to bring our cameras.)  They ate less than a dozen cookies.  I had a second signing set up two weeks later, so the cookies went into the freezer and emerged on the morning of the second signing.  The co-workers who hadn't made it to the first signing came to that one . . . and ate less than a dozen cookies.

Oh dear.  Mr. L and I were FORCED (at knife point) to eat all the rest of those cookies.  (Well, I may have eaten more than my fair share . . . frozen.  With a cup of tea, they were just fine.)

So, five years later I don't bake for signings any more.  (Just as well, I don't need to eat dozens of damn fine cookies at a pop.)  That's why I switched to bringing goodie bags filled with non-fattening bookmarks and postcards.

Still, if you're in the mood to make the same cookies I used to bring to signings, I put the recipe up on my web site.  You see, now my heroine Katie makes the cookies and I get to live vicariously through your love of baking (and eating).  It's not as much fun for the taste buds, but it's better on the waistline.

You can find the recipe here.

Katie likes to bake.  Is there anything you'd like to see her bake in a future book?

A Good Day

Yesterday was a good day.  Before lunch, I wrote 422 words. 

Mr. L took me out to lunch at Wegman's new FOOD BAR restaurant.  They changed a lovely restaurant (Tastings) into a burger joint.  About the only thing that remains are the zucchini fries. (Heaven.)  Was it good?  Yes, it was good.  Was it worth nearly $18 for two burgers and two orders of zucchini fries?  No.  Will we go back?  Maybe ... but only for the zucchini fries.

Went to Barnes & Noble  in the same plaza -- just to check up on my Booktown Mysteries.  Hmm.  Only five copies of four titles, which I signed.  (I am extremely spoiled by my "home" B&N in Greece Ridge Center because the CRM keeps her shelves well stocked with my titles.  We're talking up to 10+ of each.  I love you Rebecca!!!)  But, I did have a very brief but pleasant conversation with one of their sales associates who was about to go to lunch.  I asked if she could see if the store had ordered copies of A Crafty Killing (which comes out on February 1st--hint, hint).  She looked it up, blinked a couple of times, and said, "Twenty four copies.  That's a LOT!"  (It was all I could do NOT to break into a Snoopy Happy dance right there and then.)

Then we went to Michaels and I raided their $1 racks.  I am such a sucker for blank note cards and such.  (And yes, I just visited my Greece Michael's last week and bought more stuff.)  This time I bought myself a little tote bag for Malice Domestic. (I had a wonderful small canvas bag that I was given by the Mystery Lovers Bookshop after their Festival of Mystery (if you have never gone-GO!!!) in 2009 and lost last year at the Malice Domestic conference.  (I could've cried!!!) I got a few other things, too.  (Fun stuff.  Hey, I deserve it!)

We got home and I wrote another 800 words and an email to my editor.  In it I happened to ask what my print run was for A Crafty Killing.  A while later the phone rang.  Yes--it was from NY and it was my editor!!!  He decided to answer my print run question in person.  Whoa!  It's 5000 more than the print run for Chapter & Hearse. (He actually said he was ASTOUNDED to learn that.  Hey, no more than me.)  That means my publisher (or at least their marketing department) thinks A Crafty Killing should do well.  (I certainly have my fingers crossed.  I need a new hot water heater and a few other repairs to be made to the house.)

Let's summerize the day: 

Got my word count for the day.  (YEA!)
Got taken to lunch.  (YEA!)
Found out a store where I won't be signing is buying half a case of books.  (YEA!)
Found out my print run would be higher than for Chapter & Hearse.  (YEA!)

and -- as an added bonus it did NOT snow and no cats puked on the carpet or wood floors for the entire day.

Yup.  I'd say that was a good day.

How was your day?

(P.S.  Weather went down the toilet.  It's snowing and we might get another 5 inches added to the 4 that fell overnight.  Oh well, you can't have everything.)

What I did with fruit

Years ago, Waldorf Salad was a staple at our holiday dinners.  It was made by a former family member and it was really nice.  But since she's no longer a part of my family, I've had to do without.

Until this week.

My mother-in-Law presented me with a fruit basket for Christmas. As most of you know, I'm not a real fruit fan, but I also hate to waste good food.  So I gave away the oranges and wondered what I should do with the apples, grapes, and pears.

Pears are a no brainer.  We often eat them sliced with our dinner.  We're fond of Empire apples, but not Red Delicious, and guess what kind of apples came in the basket?

So I thought--why not make a Waldorf Salad? 

I got on the Internet, found a recipe and within about 15 minutes had whipped up something delish for our dinner.  (Lucky I had all the ingredients on hand, eh?)

I've still got four more apples, but no more grapes (and they're not cheap this time of year).  Aha!  You can substitute raisins for grapes.

Guess what I'm making this weekend?

What's your favorite fruit recipe?

 

This for that

I love to bake, but I don't like the calories.  So when I bake, I often substitute the oil in a recipe with unsweetened applesauce.  (And just WHY would anyone WANT to sweeten applesauce?  It's already sweet!!!)

For Thanksgiving, I baked a very rich carrot cake.  Because it was the first time I used that recipe, I decided to make it as directed--with a full cup of oil.  It was pretty darn good.  For Christmas, I made the same cake, only this time I substituted the oil with applesauce.

How did it turn out?

Pretty good.  A bit moister, but other than that it was still a very good cake.

I noticed that my local grocery store is now selling a prune mixture, which can be used as a substitute for oil, and I'm going to buy some and try that in a recipe some time soon.  (While I contemplate going on a diet and putting all baking on hold for some time.)

What ingredient have you substituted in a recipe?

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REMINDER:  Friday is the deadline for the Access Romance Holiday Scavenger Hunt (grand prize is a Kindle) and the Backlist Ebooks 25% off Smashwords E book sale.

Where'd the month go?

I've been meaning to do my holiday baking for weeks now. 

Oops!  Suddenly Christmas is only two days away and I haven't even started!

Double oops!

Today my agenda calls for finding a recipe online and collecting three others from the files.  Hitting the grocery store for missing ingredients is next on the list.  I WILL make the dough for the cookies I promised my brother back in December 2009.  (In fact, Dec. 25th, 2009.)

Tomorrow I will bake two cakes and the cookies.

Saturday I will bake a pie before the turkey goes into the oven. (And I have to prepare the veggies, too.)

Why, oh why, didn't I do my baking before this?

Well, Christmas, which seemed so far in the future, suddenly snuck up on me.

I love to bake, but because of extenuating circumstances I had to give up my daily aspirin and now standing for longer than half an hour is a major pain--literally.  Therefore, Mr. Bar Stool is my new best friend.  Yes, I will sit and mix ingredients.  We will have cake. We will have cookies.  We will have pie.

I've got that computer-generated calendar going now, so next year I'm scheduling baking a LOT earlier.  Please hold me to it. 

What last minute prep is on your list of things to do for the next couple of days?

 

Pet Peeve Thursday: It's In The Can

It's that time of year when the grocery store fills its seasonal aisle with all kinds of red, green, gold and sparkly stuff.  I'm not immune to a little bit of glitter and love to walk that aisle and soak it all in.  (Knowing I have no more room to add any more to my already stuffed-full closets. Ah, well . . .)

Next to the sparkly aisle were shelves of seasonal delights for the taste buds.  Everything you need for your holiday meals.  Of course, I'd been waiting weeks to buy more cans of jellied cranberry sauce.  Unlike most of the rest of the country, I use the stuff year round.  And the minute the holiday season is over, the sale price goes off and the "real" price goes back on.  That real price is 50 cents more per can than what I have to pay in November and December and I decided to stock up.

But wait.  As I went to grab the can I turned to Mr. L and said, "Does this can look stubby to you?"  (Stubby as in SHORT?)  "No, I'm sure it's the same as it always was."

Oh yeah?

Sure enough, we got it home and took out other standard cans from the pantry and guess what.  The standard can of cranberry sauce (and it's not just the store brand--even Ocean Spray) is now 2 ounces less than it was just a couple of weeks ago.  I noticed in the "regular" aisle they still have the standard sized cans and they're still the REAL price.

Manufacturers and retailers don't want to raise the price--because people like me remember what we paid a year before--so they just give you less product and hope you don't notice.

Well, I'm still going to stock up on the cans because let's face it, I love the stuff.  And I put it on roast chicken throughout the year.  They tried to pull one over on me and didn't succeed.  But I'm still missing 2 ounces of cranberry sauce with every can.

What trick has a manufacturer played on you lately?

At The Farmer's Market

Yesterday was farmer's market day and we almost forgot. In fact, it was 1:55 and I said, "Hey, hubby--we forgot to go to the farmer's market!"  Well, on went the coats and hat and out the door we flew.

I'm not sure if they usually pack up at 2 or 3 p.m., or if it was the cold, gloomy rain, but we got there about ten minutes later and most of the market had already packed up and was gone.  There were a few straggler customers like us, though, and we walked up and down the aisle before deciding on what to get.  This week it was a stalk of Brussels sprouts, a small cauliflower, parsnips and a small cabbage.  Cost:  $4.50.  If we had bought these veggies at the supermarket, I estimate it would've been $8-$10.

Half the sprouts are already history.  We like them roasted with a little olive oil and freshly ground pepper.  I love parsnips, but don't know if I should just parboil them, then fry after a quick dip in a cornstarch/egg mixture.  (Oooh.  Yummy.)  I like to parboil the cauliflower and then pop it into a dish with shredded cheese and breadcrumbs--baking for about 20-30 minutes.  And for the cabbage -- well, if we can find some corned beef, you know what's going to happen to that little guy.  (Corned beef is hard to come by around here, except for February and March.)

The market will only be open another two weeks and then it'll be back to the (expensive) grocery store for veggies. 

Bummer.

What do you like to get at your farmer's market?

Longing for the taste of long ago . . .

When I worked at the Big Yellow Box at their world headquarters many moons ago, they used to staff their own kitchens with their own workers who made homemade delights five days a week.  Oh, they had a TO-DIE-FOR walnut cake that was out of this world.  Their homemade soups were stupendous.  And they also made all their own muffins.

Mind you, when I'd leave the building on any given night, the air would smell heavenly -- just like a bran muffin.  It was actually the brewery across the river, but it smelled like breakfast to me.

And what did I love most at breakfast time?  Their marvelous bran muffins with raisins.  Several times a week I'd buy a bran muffin for my morning meal and hope that the guy in the with the gray eyes would be up at the cafeteria taking a coffee break so I could wave to him.  (Yeah, I ended up marrying the big lug.)

Fast forward way too many years.  The company went down the toilet, and long ago let go all their kitchen staff, and the company that took over the eats tossed out all the old favorite recipes.  The food wasn't as good, and the company ... well, let's just say the stock options I have are worth dog poop.

But I remember those muffins.  And I recently bought a bag of bran flour in hopes of recreating them.

My first attempt was not satisfactory.  I think my oven runs a little hot.  But they also weren't sweet enough.  I got the recipe from a 1930s cookbook.  "Hmmm," says I, "I'll find a better recipe on the Internet."

NOT!

Every recipe I've found wants to use bran CEREAL, not bran flour.  Like the actual flour is something that became extinct back in the days of the dinosaur.

So, I guess I'll have to tweak that 1930s recipe (Angelica would be proud of me) until it tastes just right. 

In the meantime, has anybody got a bran muffin recipe that uses real bran flour (and without buttermilk or molasses)?  If so, will you share?

Cooking by Remote Control

The other day I decided I'd like to have egg salad for lunch.  So I promptly put four eggs in a pan, set the burner on high, looked at the clock and said to myself, "Self, come back in 15 minutes."

Of course, I went back to my office (the other end of the house) and started working on emails.

About forty-five minutes later my husband said, "What's that noise?"

"What noise?"

"The cats must be up to something.  I go look."

Lorraine goes back to work.

"ARRRRRGGGGGGGGG--the kitchen is full of smoke.  The eggs have exploded!  The pan is ruined!!!"

Uh . . . I guess I kinda forgot about my lunch.

And, thanks to hubby's scrubbing power, the (Farberware) pan was NOT ruined.  It's once again shiny and back in the cupboard ready for it's next adventure.

Next time I make hard-boiled eggs . . . I'll set the timer on my desk.  (Yes, I keep one there.  Otherwise I forget cats out on the enclosed porch on winter days.)

Um . . . that is, I'll set the timer . . . if I remember.

Have you had any cooking disasters lately?

(P.S.  Honestly compels me to tell you that the above picture was not taken by me.  My eggs were far more interesting because they'd exploded.  So there were shells and yolks all over the place.  Rats.  Why didn't I take a picture?)

RIP, my old friend

Yesterday I lost a trusted friend of almost 29 years.  We'd been together through thick and thin.  In sickness and in health.  Through good times and bad.

Yesterday, my multi-speed Waring hand mixer died.

And, of course, it died in the line of duty.  It was hubby's birthday.  He prefers pie to cake, and his favorite:  lemon meringue.  I was whipping up the egg whites and my kitchen buddy suddenly died.  The pie turned out okay, perhaps out of respect for my old mixer, but the meringue didn't stand as tall as it might have if the old Waring had lived just a minute or two longer.

I knew it wasn't well.  Oh, it hadn't been coughing up blood or anything like that, but for the past couple of months, it would only give me two of its six speeds, and I would have to mess with the speed control before it would start. 

Before the poor thing even had an indecent burial, hubby was on the Internet searching for its replacement.  (You see, he's quite fond of Dr. Oetker's Mousse Supreme which must be beaten for nearly five minutes.  I think that's what might have killed the Waring...all those Mousse Supremes we've had this year--the light version, to avoid excess calories.)

I loved that mixer.  My brother gave it to me when I moved into my first house. (As I've mentioned in the past, he's given me most of my small kitchen appliances.)  Now I live in fear that the toaster oven and electric fry pan of the same vintage may soon kick the bucket.  My Waring hand mixer even lived in the box it came in from the factory all those years ago.  And, of course, you can't buy Waring hand mixers anymore.  Now Waring concentrates on bar blenders.

I'll get a new hand mixer, but it won't be the same.  In these days of planned obsolescence, a new mixer will probably live a couple of years and go on to that great appliance store in the sky.

But please, let's have a moment of silence for my late, great, Waring hand mixer.

( ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...)

Thank you.

Are you inordinately attached to any of your kitchen appliances?

Paying attention while I cook

It's rare that a movie makes a big impression on me.  But Julie & Julia did.  At first, I was attracted to it because it was about two very different writers in two very different times, and the struggle to get published.  But later on, it became about the food.

The later on part started in January.  I got the DVD for Christmas (thank you, Bro!), and have watched it at least six or seven times since then.  The first thing I did that came from the movie:  I didn't crowd the mushrooms.  Yum!  Instead of limp, wet fungus, I had delicious, nutty-tasting mushrooms.  Double-Yum!

Like Julie Powell, my mother has a copy of Mastering The Art of French Cooking.  I haven't stolen her copy yet, but it's been on my mind.  Somewhere in the past I looked at it, but I like cookbooks with lots of photographs.  That is, until I started getting into older cookbooks because of my character Angelica and her cookbook store, The Cookery.  Then I started reading recipes from old cookbooks--for fun!  (I blogged about it last summer, but I'm too lazy to go back and find it.  Sorry.)

A little while ago, I decided to make chicken pot pie.  I LOVE chicken pot pie, but my attempts in the past have always been . . . not satisfactory.  I glanced at my pot pie cookbook (which I've had for YEARS) and noticed that some of the recipes started by making a roux.

Let me tell you, I do NOT have the patience to stir flour and oil (or butter) for any length of time.  One recipe for gumbo that I made earlier this year insisted that you stir it for at LEAST an hour.  Uh-uh!  But I wanted this chicken pot pie to be different, so I managed to stir it for almost ten minutes before I got totally fed up.

Guess what.  The pot pie was a great success, mostly due to the gravy.

Hurray!

I've never been a very good cook, and that's probably because of my lack of patience.  I think I may have to try a little harder and slow down when I'm cooking.

Do you prefer to linger over cooking, or do you mostly just cook to get food on the table?

Fear of Fish Chowder

If there's one thing I've given up ordering in restaurants, it's soup.  Why?  Too salty.  But for the last year or so, I've been making soup like crazy.

I am not a huge fish fan.  I like cod and haddock, and that's about it.  (Although I've heard raves about deep sea bass.  I'm just too cheap to order anything "market value" in a restaurant.)  But several years ago, on a trip to Maine, I got brave and ordered fish chowder.  It was DE-LISH! 

I've been thinking about that fish chowder for a l-o-n-g time.  The last time we had lobster, I kept the skeletons (what other word is there for it?) and boiled them up to made lobster broth, and then I froze it.  Now every time I see that container of broth, I feel like i ought to make the fish chowder.  The problem?

I can't find a fish chowder recipe I like.

The chowder I had in Maine was not milk-based, but every recipe I've found in books or online is.  I suppose I could just make a milk-potato-fish chowder and would probably enjoy it.  But what I guess I'm leading to is this:

Does anyone have a good fish chowder recipe?

Lunch break!

Too often these days, my working day (where I actually sit down to write) starts about 12:39 pm -- after lunch.  To me, lunch is the best time of the day.  It's always filled with possibilities.  Will it be leftovers?  Sandwiches?  Aloo Matar (curried peas and potatoes) with naan?  Still, I think I love to have a sandwich best.

For years, I had lunch with my Mom and Dad on Tuesdays.  The menu was the same for a long time.  Dad's egg-salad sandwiches.  Nobody on Earth made egg salad like my Dad, with just the right amount of mayonnaise and chopped green olives.  Yum!

I like crunchy stuff in my sandwiches.  That was also because of my Dad.  I'd come for lunch on a Tuesday and there wasn't much in the fridge.  We used to joke that he could make half a dozen chicken salad sandwiches out of one wing and an onion and celery.  Yup, the meat to crunchy ratio was pretty low, but I got to like them that way, and now when I eat out, I try to order extra onions because they NEVER put enough in the chicken or tuna salad.

Lately, we've been eating ham sandwiches on rye bread.  Or rather, I have.  My husband buys a ton of cold cuts--ham, cheese, salami, hot capicol, and mortadella--then only eats the mortadella.  I don't like to waste food, so guess who eats the rest of it?  But I've got to have crunchies in my sandwich--and here's where the green leaf lettuce comes on.  I like it.  A LOT of it.  In fact, Frank says, "Have some ham with that lettuce sandwich," but I think it tastes just fine.

What's your favorite lunch?

Can one learn to love wine?

There's so much romance connected to wine.  It's been celebrated in story and song for thousands of years.  And I just don't like it all that much.

My sister-in-law hit it on the head with her description of most wines:  "Tastes like shoe polish remover."

The problem is, I don't have an educated palate--and neither does my husband.  (Who, by the way, taught me to like whiskey and gin.  I like them both waaaaaay too much, too.)  My parents did occasionally drink wine when I was a kid.  Pink Catawba.  Not exactly high brow, eh?  But they liked it and offered us kids a sip now and then.  (Maybe that's why I don't like wine.) 

When we were courting, then-date (now husband) and I went to several wine tastings thanks to free tickets from our workplace.  Our reaction to most of the wines?  Tasted like shoe polish remover.

Taylor Wine Company used to have marvelous wine tastings, where they even served hot hors d'ouevers.  That's where I learned about cream sherry.  (Don't drink it very often anymore.  Drank too much of it once and then combined with pizza ... well, we won't go there.)

Red wine?  I have tried it on many occasions, but I remember the first time.  I'd been feverishly working on a novella the entire day and kind of forgot to have breakfast and lunch.  Had three HUGE glasses of wine with dinner and ... see paragraph above.  (God, nothing worse than a red wine hangover.)

That's not to say I dislike all wine, but I admit it, I like the sweeter ones, like asti spumante.  Champagne?  Never did much for me.  Too dry.  My current favorite wine is canei, which I first had at my aunt and uncle's home.  They always have wine for guests when they entertain, and it's not often I turn down a glass of canei.  (In fact, I think I've done most of my wine drinking at their house.  See paragraph above for red wine hangover.) 

Despite his uneducated palate, hubby is a faithful follower of the wine column in our local paper (mostly because it's written by the daughter of an ex-work buddy.)  In November, hubby read all about beaujolais nouveau and how marvelous it's supposed to be, and how it cannot be sold until a certain day in November.  Hyped up over the marvelous description, he bought a bottle and took it to my aunt and uncle's for Thanksgiving.  We cracked it and sipped.

It tasted like shoe polish remover.

We'd both like to learn more about wine.  Got any ideas on how to do it?

Happy National Pie Day!

Did you know today is National Pie Day?  Even more shocking, did you know there's a National Pie Council?

I didn't either, until I read about it in yesterday's USA Today.  Seems like it's a big deal, too, with pie championships, recipes, happenings, festivals, and even pie seminars.

Who knew there was a wonderful world of pie-dom out there?

The truth is ... I'm not a big pie eater.  One thing I learned from one of the many diets I've been on -- if you don't like something, don't eat it.  Therefore, it's quite easy for me to turn down pie.  Most pies.  Every once in a while I like a slice of lemon meringue pie.  At Thanksgiving, I'll eat a slice of mince pie.  Once in a blue moon, I'll have a slice of apple, and once in a blue moon pecan pie, but that's as far as I go for dessert pies.  I'm a cake girl.

 Still, I wouldn't say no to a meat pie.  (And no one on earth makes a better meat pie than my Aunt Sunny.)  I love the meat pies you get in British pubs.  (Yum-yum.) Although I've never been able to work up the courage to eat a steak and kidney pie.  (Kidneys process urine.  Enough said.)  I've got several pot pie cookbooks.  Maybe I'll make a pot pie for supper to celebrate the day.

Do you like pie, and if so, what's your favorite slice?

Dry, White Toast

When I order breakfast in a restaurant, I'm often given odd looks by my dining companions. Why?  Because I always order dry, white toast with my eggs. 

"Ugh!  How can you eat that?" 

Usually that is said by someone eating wholewheat bread, which is GOOD for them.  (And what about the greasy eggs, sausage and home fries on their plate?)

The truth is, I got used to eating toast with nothing on it back in my yo-yo diet days.  And I actually got to like the taste.  Same as I got to like skim milk.  In fact, I like skim milk so much, I drink at least a half gallon, if not a gallon of the stuff every week.  I was on vacation a few years back and ate cereal for breakfast.  (No hot breakfast in that motel chain.)  They only had whole milk.  Yikes!  It tasted like I'd poured melted ice cream on my corn flakes.  (And even 2% milk tastes pretty decadent to me.)

You'd think with no butter on my toast and fat-free milk I'd be a Kate Moss look-alike.  No such luck.  (It's portion control that's the key, and sometimes--okay, OFTEN--I need someone to slap my hand when I reach for that second helping.

Of course, I have a conference coming up at the end of April and I'd like to lose some weight--but I refuse to diet, since that only means I'd gain it all back and then some.  So portion control is the name of the game.

For toast, you can't do better than Wegmans Country White (it's especially good on BLTs), but it is a bit too much for regular sandwiches. (Those slices are FAT.)  So I've switched from the Wegmans ( bread (100 calories per slice) to Monks white bread (80 calories per slice) for toast, and have gone back to eating pumpernickel bread (more fiber) for most sandwiches.  

I remember having one of my characters eating toast as comfort food and a critique partner chiding me that comfort food HAD to be something decadent, like a hot fudge sundae.   That made me feel odd, because there's nothing like bread for comfort when you're feeling down, be it toast or a nice, thick slab of Italian bread slathered with a thick layer of butter.

But I'm trying to cut down, remember.  So...hand me another slice of that dry white toast.  Mmm, Mmm, good.

What's your idea of comfort food?

Fattening, disgusting (and tasty) food

We had a nasty snowstorm last week.  Thanks to pick-up trucks with plows on the front, our days of shoveling are long gone.  However, a shovel is necessary to do a little extra clean-up.  I also do the clean up at my mom's house.  So off I went to shovel her walk.

Afterwards, I went inside and on her TV was a rerun of an unbelievable Food Network show about cheesy hamburgers.  I mean, these burgers were a heart attack waiting to happen.  They were HUGE (half a pound or more of meat) with tons of melted cheese (one burger had two slabs of jalapeno cheese, each a quarter-inch thick.)  They showed patrons  in the resaurant trying to unhinge their jaws to get these burgers into their mouths, which were soon dripping with secret sauce, melted cheese, and flecks of lettuce.  Talk about food porn!

What is this romance Americans have with the absolute worst, bad-for-you food?  Well, I'll tell you:  IT TASTES BLOODY GOOD.  Look at the crisp lettuce, that pink tomato (Okay, I'll grant you--it does look hothouse), and the sauce and cheese on the homemade bun.  Couldn't you just shove that in your pie hole right now?  (I guess I shouldn't write blogs when I'm hungry, eh?)

God, those burgers looked fantastic.  (Don't even get me started on the fries soaked in vinegar and then deep fried.  If the TV had smell-o-vision, I'd've jumped through the screen.)

Of course, there's a bad side to all these tasty lunch and dinnertime treats.  Fat.  Big gobs of ugly fat hanging off your body.  Now, I don't happen to be a candidate for the lap band or gastric bypass...and truth be told, I almost NEVER eat a hamburger out.  (And rarely at home, as well.)  But there was something about seeing these people eating those burgers that had me salivating like Pavlov's dog.  (BTW, that's NOT my flab over there.  What, you think I want my blubber all over the Internet???)

Within the next few years, more people will die of diabetes than heart disease.  And what about those clogged arteries?  Angioplasty is now more popular than face lifts.

We're constantly being bombarded with food ads--on TV, newspapers, magazines--even the radio.  Wouldn't you like a nice Milky Way hot chocolate with an M&M donut (mentioned almost hourly on my favorite morning radio talk show); how about two sausage egg McMuffins for the price of one?  We're temped to overeat from dawn until the drive through shuts down after midnight.

 We're now the fattest nation on the planet.  Up to 33% of the children in this country are obese.  They don't run around playgrounds (the chance of lawsuits is way too high) -- and they eat fatty foods, and watch too much TV/play too many video games/surf the Internet.  While schools are trying to convince the kids that eating healthy is good, if Mom still packs a lunch that's filled with fat, nitrates, high fructose corn syrup, and other empty calories--and supper might be a stop for fast food on the way to the soccer game where Junior sits on the sidelines because he can't keep up with the fit kids.

What's the answer?

Diets?  They don't work.  Lifestyle changes? Yes, but it's not easy.  I did not make a resolution to lose weight this past New Years, much as I want to fit into smaller jeans.  I knew I'd be off a diet as soon as my stomach was empty, so I vowed to eat healthier...and I'm making a bit of headway.  (Rye instead of white bread.  More fruits and veggies. Smaller portions (that one's proving the most difficult.)  But lose weight?  It's tough. 

It takes commitment.  It takes an in-house cook and a personal trainer.

Hey, that's the way Oprah did it!  (And did it.  And did it....)

I left off the butter ...

Okay, we're into Day Three of the "Would Hank Phillippi Ryan Eat This" campaign.  The first day was great...until I went to Sam's Club.

See, I needed a new toner cartridge.  Before the holidays, you could graze through Sam's and get your fat calories for the week--and in only one session.  But now, fugettaboutit.  (Although they did have one sample:  Angel food cake with a black berry.  Not fattening, and quite tasty, but a teeny weenie portion.)

Since we were in the "goodies" section anyway, we passed by the croissants.  Yum!  I love 'em. (Doesn't everybody?)  They had baby croissants and the JUMBO ones, too.  I recently bought four jumbo croissants at the grocery store.  The check-out girl forgot to ring them up, and, being the honest person my parents brought me up to be, I went to the Service Counter to rectify the situation.  I was thanked profusely for my honestly, and as I had no cash, bellied up to the credit card machine, thinking I'd be embarrassed at such a paltry sum, and was shocked to find out those croissants were $1.25 -- EACH!

Whoa.

It just so happens that hubby has one of those digital watches with a calculator in it.  He whipped out his arm and did some calculations and found that the jumbo croissants at Sam's were a mere 45 cents each.  Well, you just KNEW they were going into our cart, right?

So there I was at breakfast yesterday, looking at the lovely dozen and thinking to myself:  Would Hank eat this croissant?  Of course, she'd be thinking, "Would Jackie O eat his croissant?"  And of course the answer would have to be YES!  I mean, wasn't Jackie O part French?  (Her maiden name was Bouvier, she wore Paris gowns, and spoke French--certainly croissants HAD to be at the top of her "things I will eat" menu.  Of course, she would have chosen a small croissant--as I'm sure Hank would--not the jumbo kind.  But I digress...)

I thought I did well.  I only ate one (jumbo) croissant.  No butter.  Just a very thin layer of raspberry jam.

It was de-lish.  I mean, honstely, didn't I HAVE to eat it?

What would you have done?

What Would Hank Do?

It's that time of year when a lot of us make resolutions to change.  One of the biggest resolutions is the old I WILL LOSE WEIGHT gambit.  I've tried this a number of times and it's never worked out.  

*Sigh*

I was pleased to see that Dr. Oz says to toss away the scale and start eating right, concentrating on losing inches, not pounds.  Inches around the belly.  Easier said than done.

A few weeks back, my friend, Hank Phillippi Ryan, revealed the secret of how she keeps so trim.

Hank is an Emmy-award winning investigative reporter with Boston's Channel 7 WHDH-TV station.  She's also won the coveted Agatha Award for her first mystery, Prime Time.  (And she's got a new book out next month, Drive Time, 4th in the Charlotte McNally mystery series.)

Anyway, when Hank is tempted by luscious desserts, fattening sauces, and marvelous munchies, she asks herself one question:

Would Jackie Kennedy Onassis eat this?

Whoa!  Students of history know that Jackie O didn't have an ounce of fat on her.  (She was also a chain smoker, which may or may NOT have helped her keep that trim figure.)  Hank doesn't smoke, so I have to think that she stays in dynamite shape because of those six little words.

So like Hank, I'm going to adopt six little words to help me NOT give in to temptation.

Starting today, when I want to eat that cookie, or take an extra helping of potatoes, I'm going to ask myself one question:

Would Hank Phillippi Ryan eat this?

I think I already know the answer to that.  (How about you?)

The Annual Christmas Lunch

For about twenty-three years now, my sweetie has taken me to lunch just before Christmas.  It's a tradition we love and is almost always very special.

 The very first time we went out, was actually our second lunch together.  I didn't call it a "date" because I was friends with a lot of guys at work and we often went to lunch, almost always Dutch treat, too.  But Frank invited me out to lunch on a very snowy day and I figured I ought to wear my boots.  Moon boots.  Big, Ugly, Clunky, Boots.  I was sure we were going to a diner or maybe even a fast food joint for pizza or a burger.  No, he takes me to a real swank place called Chestnuts, where everything on the menu was so expensive it made your eyes go BOING!

So there I was, Little Miss Unsophisiticated with her moon boots, and knitted hat and turtleneck (hey, I was cold!), and all around me are these svelt, model-like women in sleeveless dresses cut down to the navel and dripping with jewelry, sipping sherry or chardonnay, and there I was with a whiskey pop (a highball).  But it was a lovely lunch and when he dropped me back off at the office, he handed me a gift.  (A GIFT!!!!!  Handmade stationery.)  I was so surprised, I gave him a kiss on the cheek, which I think startled and surprised him, too.

For years we went to a lovely little restaurant in the basement of and old office building, that had the most gorgeously decorated rooms for dining (black lacquered tables, plenty of mirrors, and lots of sparkling chandeliers), a sumptuous bar, and exquisite Christmas decorations.  We'd have a couple of drinks (Manhattan for him, martini for me) and always ended lunch with their famous white mousse.  But then they lost their lease and moved to another historic building, and totally changed their decor to all white, no window treatments (there had been no windows in their previous location, which tended to make the place feel more intimate), and no charisma.  They were out of business within six months.

After that, we often had lunch in Tastings, the test-kitchen restaurant owned by the Wegmans grocery chain.  But Tastings has now closed--and they've reopened as Next Door Bar and Grill and they don't (yet) serve lunches. (Bummer.)

So this year we ended up in Keanan's--a very nice casual-style restaurant, which is always nicely decorated, and has a wonderful staff.  We had a lovely lunch...but it just wasn't the same.  We've eaten there on many occasions--not always happy (like the day my Dad died), and have always had a nice lunch.  (One of the waitresses even knows what we drink--even though we might only go there six times a year.)

I'm hoping by next year we find some other wonderful little restaurant that will make the Christmas lunch as special as it once was.  Of course the one thing that has always been the same is my lunch companion--and through the years I couldn't have done any better.

Do you have a tradition like this?

Where are those Christmas cookies???

For days now, I've been trying to find the time to make cut-out cookies for Christmas.  I've assembled all the ingredients and yesterday I bought two new cookie cutters.  (A martini glass--wonder why I got that?  And a school bus.  (My brother is a substitute driver and is an absolute NUT for cut-out cookies so I thought I'd make him a batch.)) I've been looking in stores for a Scotty dog cookie cutter for months.  I found one online but didn't want to pay $10 PLUS shipping, so no Scotty dog cookies this year. 

I dug out the bag of cookie cutters the other night and I'm sure there's a bunch missing.  But where would I have put them?  When I had my booth at the Craft Antique Co-op, I sold hundreds of cookie cutters, and I know when I went out of business that I didn't sell them all. But where did they go?

This year I thought I'd try to do more than just slap on icing.  I'm going to pipe the cookies so they look like they came out of a decorating magazine.  The only problem is, I'm not all that handy with a pastry bag.  I figure my first efforts will probably look ... like first effort, but I shall persevere...at least for an hour or so.

Have you done your holiday baking yet?

Okay, I lied.

For years I've been telling anyone who'd listen that I don't like to cook.  I think that may now be a lie.  Lately it seems I'm a lot more interested in food prep than I have been.  It might have a LOT to do with the fact that so much of the food we buy is processed with sodium or high-fructose corn syrup and I really feel better knowing what's in the food I eat.

That's one reason why I expanded my vegetable garden this past summer.  We grew broccoli and Brussels sprouts (which Mr. Groundhog ate most of), tomatoes, a TON of green beans (yum!), potatoes, parsley and cilantro.

For the past few days I've been a cooking machine.  Wednesday I made Potato-Leek soup (the recipe is included in Bookplate Special) and a mince pie.  Friday I made a HUGE lasagna.  Yesterday I made a huge vat of turkey-vegetable soup (which will probably feed me for the entire winter, and nobody else in my family will eat it--I freeze it in small containers), and made cookies for the coming holidays.  (Shortbread and Oatmeal Raisin cookies.)

The thing I'm noticing is that ... I'm now enjoying the process.  Mind you, I love to cook with my husband, but lately we haven't done much of that.  (Note to self:  Bug Husband To Cook With Me.)

This year I've frozen a ton of onions, leeks, and parsley, good stuff for soups and stews.  I have a bunch of crock-pot recipes I want to try.  And since I became a cozy mystery author, I always seem to be testing recipes to include in my books.  (Too bad most of them are so fattening.  But, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for my readers.  And if you believe THAT ....)

Sadly, all this domesticity hasn't manifested into a massive clean up of the old homestead.  And this week for the first time in my life, I'm hiring someone to come in and give the place a good going over.  (I think I'll go hide in the basement while they're here.)

But when I'm in the kitchen, I'm not exactly having fun ... but I do notice I feel completely content when I'm cooking something or other these days.  I like that feeling.

How about you?

Fish for Thanksgiving?

Oh, no, not fish on the ACTUAL day -- I'm talking about a pre-Thanksgiving holiday treat.  And that's visiting the Globe Hotel in East Aurora, NY.

Unlike most restaurants, the Globe offers fish fries every day of the week.  (Man, if I only lived in East Aurora.)  It's about the best fish fry you're likely to find in New York--and maybe the ENTIRE country!

For the past decade or so, we've made it a day-before-Thanksgiving ritual (and on Good Friday, too) to visit the Globe for one of their wonderful fish fries, and today will be no different.  We'll hoist a glass of some kind of cheer (for me it's a gin Martini), and no doubt we'll be toasting my Dad, who'll be missing from the table.  So it'll be a little bit sad, but a lot of good eating.

Tomorrow we'll fill up on turkey and all the trimmings, but today--it's my wish for fish come true!

I want my cuppa tea!

Three months ago I had a violent stomach bug.  I never spent a night puking for so long and so hard in my life.  The next day, I lay on the couch eating (saltless) Saltines and watching old movies because my stomach was so upset.

I figured it would go away in a day or two.  And it didn't.  And didn't.

For weeks, I kept discovering foods I dared not eat for getting killer heartburn.  Anything with tomatoes.  Anything with vinegar.  

Cutting out tomatoes was tough.  A lot of what I eat has tomatoes as a base.  So I ate my spaghetti with Parmesian cheese and herbs (as my friend Lee Rowan used to make--and probably still does).  I had no Indian food for two l-o-n-g months.  Nothing seemed to work for me, despite the bottles of Malox I drank, and the hundreds of antacid tablets I downed, until I found Prelief.  (I should take out stock in the company.)  I'd down a couple (okay, maybe as many as five) of these little white pills and it neutralized the acid.  Gradually, my stomach healed enough to reintroduce these acidic foods.

Except for one thing:  tea.

Now, for as long as I can remember, I have started my day with a cup (or pot) of tea.  I had to give up caffeine back in the 1980s, and learned to love decaf tea.  (Okay, ENGLISH decaf tea.  There's a big difference in taste.  American teas are pretty wimpy.)  Even with seven Prelief tablets, nothing seemed to help.  To add insult to injury, I'd purchased 11 boxes of my favorite Typhoo tea (that's 880 tea bags) just about the time this all started.

I was letting myself have one cup of tea a week to see if the old stomach could handle it.  Usually I choose Mondays, figuring I'd have the rest of the week to recover before I tried again.  It was only a week ago that I had a cup of tea and didn't get heartburn.  That made me braver.  I tried again (only that time I didn't have anything to eat with the tea).  Ugh.  Heartburn.  So I tried with food (and Prelief) again.  Ah, success!  Yesterday, I had tea with just Prelief.  Yea!  No heartburn.  And I've done it again today.  (Okay, it's kind of early, but I've got my fingers crossed.)

I can't tell you how wonderful it has been to have that one cup of tea most mornings for the last week.  Oh how I've missed it.  But it's only one cup.  I can't wait until I can get back to drinking a whole pot of tea and without taking Prelief first.  On that day I will celebrate--with another cup of tea.

Have you had to give up something you love to eat or drink, and how did you handle it?

PET PEEVE THURSDAY--Sodium in processed food

One of the good things our government has actually done for us is mandate nutrition labels on our food. The problem is--is anybody reading that material besides me? I know members of my family don't because they haven't got a clue about the amount of sodium they're ingesting.

On one of my diets, low these many years ago, I learned to substitute pepper for salt. They told us (was it Diet Workshop, or Nutrisystem . . . one of them, anyway) that SALT MAKES YOU RETAIN WATER, and water is heavy. Fine. I got used to skim milk and dumping half a shaker of pepper on my food and learned to actually love it. I don't cook with salt. I even cut the amount of salt in the recipes I include in my books because YOU DON'T NEED AS MUCH AS EVERYONE SEEMS TO THINK YOU DO.  

That's why I'm really rather horrified by the amount of salt in any processed food. I used to eat curried beans. I'd buy a generic can of black beans or black-eyed peas, dump them in a saucepan, add some curry paste, heat through, serve on rice--and voila! A quick lunch.  Not anymore.  Now I buy dried beans and cook them in the crock pot (without adding any salt).  Of course I have enough to feed an army, but luckily I like beans.

And have you noticed that low-sodium canned foods (soup, in particular) is usually DOUBLE the price of "regular" canned food?  (It is at my grocery store.) How does this encourage the population at large (especially in these economic times) to lower their sodium intake?

I keep seeing articles in the newspaper Living section about the need to cut sodium in our diets because it's killing us.  An enormous amount of our population--including children--is on meds to lower their blood pressure.  And why?  Because of the amount of sodium they're ingesting.

A big part of the problem is fast food.  For instance, according to Wikipedia, a Big Mac has 42% of your daily requirement of sodium. (There's a reason I stay away from these places.)  What about the fries and the rest of the food someone typically ingests on any given day?  I've also given up eating any restaurant soup, too.  Why?  Too salty!

The government seems to want to regulate everything else in our lives--why not the amount of sodium food processors are allowed to add to food?  

Salt, salt, salt, salt, S-A-L-T!!!

I know one thing--I don't want to have a stroke, so I watch my sodium intake.  Everybody should.

And what's bugging YOU today?

It's ALIVE!!!

I’ve had to do a lot of cooking and baking while testing the recipes I include in my Booktown Mystery series. For the most part, it’s fun. (Okay, maybe not that time I had to make and remake the savory muffins until my husband pleaded with me to STOP ALREADY!!!) But there’s one thing I have never attempted: anything with yeast.

Well, sort of.

Years ago, I attempted to make homemade pizza. I didn’t want to bother with yeast, so I bought a roll of frozen bread dough, which the recipe’s author assured me was A-OK with her. I followed the package directions, added my sauce, pepperoni, and vegetables on top and popped it in the oven. Some 20 minutes later I was horrified to open the oven and find that my pizza dough had risen to about three inches high, knocking off most of my toppings. And that’s when I realized it: the yeast in the dough was ALIVE and probably had been out to get me.

Gulp.

One of my favorite coffee table books is The Romance of Country Inns by Gail Grecco. In it, she includes a recipe for cinnamon rolls. She has included a gorgeous photograph (of not only the cinnamon rolls, but of Sedona, AZ as a backdrop. (Gail’s husband Tom Bagley is a professional photographer and has taken photos for most of her cookbooks.) I must have had that book for a decade (or more) and looked at that lovely photo and longed to make those cinnamon buns, except . . . they’re made with yeast.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to assemble the ingredients to make bread, right? Then why does the thought of adding that little yeast packet to warm water terrify me so? Is it because it’s a living thing, or that it might go out of control – or is my mother’s not-so-great results at breadmaking. (If you ask her, she’ll say every loaf was a success—okay, they were, if you ate it right out of the oven and spread with a lovely layer of butter, but otherwise– Sorry, Mum.)

I’m determined to make those darn cinnamon buns one day. In fact, I’ve assembled at least ten different versions of the recipe in hopes that one day I’ll gather up my courage and JUST DO IT.

But not just yet. I have to find the courage to do so.

And what are you afraid to cook?

Poached!

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen pears or salmon poached on various cooking shows. (About ten years ago, you couldn’t open a cookbook or a magazine without some poor pear being scalded to death.)

About the only thing I’ve ever eaten poached is eggs. I didn’t even realize I liked them until I made them a few years ago for my parents when we were all at the family’s summer cottage. Of course, this was the first time I’d ever made them and I realized why I’d never liked them before. My folks like theirs runny so that they have something to soak into their toast. I like my eggs poached HARD. (I also eat my fried eggs broken and cooked hard.)

They (and the cottage they outfitted) had special pans with rings and little poaching cups. The problem was, they were made for four eggs. I have seen plastic poaching cups you can use in the microwave, but to tell you the truth, I don’t trust them. Hey, look at the plastic baby bottles the government okay’d and now they’re saying—hold it! Don’t heat the milk in those bottles, because potentially hazardous chemicals leach out of the plastic and into the milk.

Therefore, I figured poached eggs were only for larger gatherings (my husband won’t eat them) or cook one or two and waste all that energy on the stove. I voiced that opinion and Mom casually said, “Why don’t you just poach an egg in a coffee mug in the microwave?”

Hello! Can you say breakfast in a jiffy?

Okay, it did take me a few tries before I got it right—and heaven forbid if you forget to prick the yoke before you nuke it. KABOOM! Exploded egg all over the microwave.  (I found that poking it with a fork did a good job.) 

I use a standard coffee mug, fill it with about an inch of boiling water right out of the kettle, drop in an egg or two (depending on how hungry I am) and zap it for about 90  seconds, drain off the water, and pop my little poached egg onto a plate with a dollop of butter, a generous shake of pepper, and a side of toast. Mmmm. Nice hot breakfast.

What’s your favorite quick, hot breakfast?

Soup's on

The other day on Writers Plot, my friend Kate Flora waxed poetically about how the onset of falls makes her yearn for hot breads and muffins.  It must be that snap in the air that arrived rather suddenly this week that makes us want to ditch the picnic food (well, I could eat a little more potato salad) and start cooking up cold-weather comfort food.

But as much as I like quick breaks an d muffins, when fall rolls around, I want my soup.  Homemade preferred.

It wasn't so long ago that when I went to a diner, I almost always ordered the soup.  I'm especially fond of vegetable soup and New England clam chowder.  But it seemed to me that more than soup I was getting brine.  Way WAY too much salt in the soup.  So I've had to give up ordering the soup.  (Except for Chinese hot and sour soup--so far that seems to have escaped excessive sodium, and how long will that last?)

Canned soups have always been too salty for me.  Lately I've taken to buying the reduced sodium versions.  Why is it if they leave out the salt the store feels they need to charge twice as much for the product?  And, unfortunately, too often if they skimp on the salt, they double up the high-fructose corn syrup.  I don't want sweet soup.

So, more often than not, I make my own soup.  I'm sure it costs triple what a can of soup costs, but it tastes great, it fills the house with a wonderful aroma, and it's good for me.

I like to make chicken soup (I prefer turkey soup, but we only cook a bird once a year--not my choice, mind you, I could eat it year round.  Too bad others in the family don't feel the same).  We buy roasted chicken from the local grocery store, which gives us four meals and then soup.  Okay, only two servings of soup, but that makes a fine lunch.

I don't have a recipe.  I boil the chicken bones for an hour or so, strain off the broth, toss the bones, throw in an onion, celery, and some frozen mixed vegetables, and in 20 minute--voila!  Lunch.  For seasoning, I toss in some ground pepper and maybe one or two shakes of salt, but nothing like what comes in processed soups.  I'll break out the bread and butter or saltines (which aren't very salty these days--must have used all that salt in the processed soup), and what a great meal.

Okay, I'm off to the kitchen.  I've got that chicken carcass to pick and soup on the menu.

Want to share your favorite soup recipe?

Back in the saddle again

A week or so ago, I sent my work in progress out to three first readers and yesterday I received the last of the comments.  Overall, they liked it.  (Whew!) Now I'm working on the rewrite.

I wish I could say I have a nice, leasurely amount of time to turn this puppy around, but I don't.  It has to arrive on my editor's desk on September 7th.  Last time around, I pushed the envelope and didn't get the manuscript ready to go until the day before the deadline.  No problem, I said, and moseyed on down to the local UPS Store.  I hearly hemmoraged (or at least my wallet did) when I learned that to overnight the manuscript was going to cost me a whopping $40.  That ain't gonna happen again.

The rewrite is going well, and I might even finish up later today.  The thing that's holding me back?  Testing those recipes.  I have a feeling I'll be cooking my butt off this weekend as I make several different versions of each dish until I'm satisfied.  (Including a coconut cake--but wait, it's my birthday.  What's wrong with having three birthday cakes, right?)  

Rewrites are either a pain in the butt or a lot of fun.  This one is fun because so far my first readers haven't found too much wrong.  And I love it that they've (hopfully) found all the typos and glitches.  That makes me look good.  I want to please my editor and if he enjoys reading the ms. and is happy he doesn't have to do much work on it--we're both very happy.

But in the meantime, it's back to those recipes.

Oh, let me eat cake!

How I eat green beans

Since I blogged about my garden the other day, especially about how much I love green beans, I thought I might share how I cook them.

I first ate these beans at a Chinese Buffet.  In those day, they added almonds.  I haven't seen them cooked that way in quite some time, but that doesn't stop me from fixing them that way.

First, I get out a skillet and put in an inch or so of water.  Plop the washed beans in the water (I like them whole, but you can cut them in segments or French style) and bring to a boil.  Cook until tender.  Drain the water and toss in a tablespoon or two of olive oil, and a tablespoon (or more) of either slivered or sliced almonds.  Cook until the almonds are browned.  

We also eat the beans boiled with dried onion and rosemary.  I put in a tablespoon or two of dried onion, and a couple of pinches of dried rosemary (fresh is always better) and boil until your preferred level of tenderness.

As you can see, I'm not big about measuring for these recipes.  

(Oh, and how do I eat my green beans?  With a fork, of course!)

How do you cook your green beans?

Ode to a cauliflower

One of the things I love most about summer is FRESH VEGETABLES.  The yard sales have been a huge disappointment this year, so is it any wonder that sometimes the best thing I can find is a vegetable?

Last week, after wasting too much gas and not finding anything fun at the yard sales, we stopped at a farm stand and found the world's most perfect cauliflower.  Even better--it was only a dollar!

I LOVE cauliflower and I have a really easy recipe that uses only three ingredients.

Boil as much cauliflower as your family can eat.  When it's almost done, remove it from the boiling water and place in an oven proof dish.  Sprinkle (or dump on) it with your favorite cheese.  (I've used Parmesan, cheddar and mozzarella), and then sprinkle (or dump on) seasoned (or unseasoned--depending on your preference) breadcrumbs.  Bake at 360 until the cheese melts and the breadcrumbs are golden brown (10-15 minutes).

Yum!

TEA PARTY?

There's nothing more soothing than a cup of tea.  At least to me.  I make tea first thing in the morning.  I'm not really awake until I have at least one cup inside me.  There's nothing better with a cookie, slice of cake, or piece of chocolate than a wonderful cup of tea.

And I'm running out of tea.

Not a problem--go to the store, right?

Uh, no.  You see, I drink Typhoo decaf and have been buying it from Canda (or bringing it back from England--last trip was in 2001) for years.  My aunt gave me two boxes for Christmas and boy was I happy to get them.  My brother used to make many trips to Canada, but not so much lately.  

A week ago, I opened my last box and now I'm starting to get nervous.  I cannot be without my tea.

I don't see making it to Canada any time soon (even though it's only about 80 miles away).  I do have a passport, so it's not that I can't go to Canada (hey, that's not the problem -- it's getting back into THIS country that's the problem.  And when did Homeland Security start training immigration officers to act like storm troopers?)  So my only option is going to be the Internet.  

The cost of tea online isn't the problem.  It's the cost of shipping that irks me.  Why is it that companies advertise decent prices for products, and then crank up the shipping to an indecent level?  I mean, people sell used copies of my first book on Amazon for a penny--and then charge $3.99 for shipping.  I don't mind a reasonable profit, but reasonable seems to be an unreasonable expection.

But, I am a slave to my tea addiction and I will pay through the nose to get it.

I just don't have to like it.