A Few More I Believes

I believe in holding a coffee cup with two hands.  And I believe in holding a wine glass with one.  

I believe in sitting in the morning sun with myself and a book.  And I believe in sitting in the evening sun with a best friend after she grabs a hat and sunglasses from my car sitting in her driveway.  

I believe in friends.  And I believe in friends sharing everything.    

I believe in learning new things like making homemade pizza completely from scratch.  And I believe in passing on those nuggets of new to others; this time to Karen and her daughter Emma, who is now the sauce making princess. 

I believe in the feeling of home being the favorite.  And I believe in the feeling of a friend's porch having the exact same nostalgia.  

I believe in the changes of the seasons, each one bringing its own ebb and flow.  And I believe in soaking every last bit of one up before jumping to the next.  

Peach Bars

Last Sunday morning, I experimented around a tish in the kitchen with some peaches that were ripe and needing to be used.  Crisp was what I had on the brain but I wanted it to be a good for your body version, not just a good for your soul version.  

Remember how I mentioned I sat in a semi with my brother and ate part of his lunch while we waited for the tractor and grain cart?  Well...the part of his lunch I ate was a homemade granola bar my sister-in-law whipped up.  It was delicious in its chewy peanut buttery and dark chocolatey and oats combination.  

So when I was standing in the kitchen the next morning holding my coffee mug and staring at the peaches - literally staring - waiting for some idea of what to make to appear from thin air, I thought of the granola bars and made a phone call to that fabulous sister-in-law of mine.  

After a quick discussion, we determined peaches could be added and they would just be a chewier bar because of the extra liquid.   

The dough looked sketchy at best but the final result was rather delicious.  My parents stopped over for lunch and when I brought out the mug of coffee and peach bar to my dad, I waited for him to take a bite and say something about it tasting healthy.  But, he didn't.  He ate it and seemed to enjoy.  I texted Sil that we had ourselves a success story and then made her a pan and Karen a pan.  The peaches I stared at on the counter with my coffee cup in hand were gone, used up in some good for your body peach bars. 

The original recipe that Sil found for the granola bars came from Kitchen Stewardship and here's how we tweaked it to make some peach bar business.  

1/2 c. peanut butter (the kind that is like just peanuts chewed up and spit back out - ingredients of peanuts and that's it, maybe a little salt)

1 c. honey

1 tsp. vanilla

4 1/2 c. old fashioned rolled oats

1 1/2 c. whole wheat flour

1 tsp. baking soda

2 c. sliced into tiny bits fresh peaches 

Whip together the peanut butter, honey, and vanilla.  In a separate bowl, mix the whole wheat flour and baking soda together.  Add that to the creamy mixture and stir.  Then, throw the oats in a cup at a time until all mixed together.  

At this point, it will be thick.  As in thick thick.  Add in the two cups of peaches and then like magic, the dough becomes workable again.  

Pour in a buttered or greased or nonstick (whatever floats your boat in that land) 9 x 13 pan and bake at 325 degrees for approximately 25-30 minutes.  The edges will be light brown but they will still look gushy and that's okay.  

Take the pan out of the oven and let cool completely.  THEN here's the step that is the coolest for the cool bars.  Cut them up, place parchment paper on a baking sheet, and then put the cut bars on the sheet so they aren't touching each other.  Re-bake them at 325 for about another 13-16 minutes.  Let cool again and they become a little bar that really holds together.  I packaged mine individually and threw them in the freezer.  They are perfect for grabbing on the run for breakfast or for a pick me up snack.

Lunches Then to Now

There was this one time several years ago, back when I lived in a tiny house in the tiny town I graduated high school, when my little sister came over for lunch.  She would have probably been about a freshman in high school at the time.  In she popped with a, "Hello!  I'm here."  

And I fed her hamburger.

Not as in a cheeseburger or a hamburger on a bun with a nice side or two, but rather just chopped up and cooked hamburger.  That's it.  

That was before my cooker days and we still laugh about it now.  Who feeds someone that and tries to convince them it's a meal?  

This summer, as a soon to be junior in college, my little sister came to my house for lunches when she was working at the bank in the bigger town I now live.  In she popped with a, "Hello!  I'm here."  

And I would do two things.

Number one, comment on her outfit because love a duck, Sister Pister can put together some cuteness.  Number two, feed her a wholesome and homemade meal.  

Never just cooked up bits of hamburger.  

Things change.  I'm grateful I can now call myself a cooker and make a real something out of random ingredients which are mostly usually on hand.  I'm grateful I no longer live in that tiny house, the one I had basically fold myself in half to crawl backwards down the ladder chute to get to the laundry in the old as the hills basement.  

Things don't change.  I'm grateful my little sister still wants to come to my house and spend time with me when she can.

The Leftovers

Although if I'm being honest, I actually whipped up these deviled eggs the Sunday before Easter and I don't have any hard boiled eggs as leftovers to use this week because I didn't dye any this year.  

And I would just like to state for the record that I actually remembered how to hard boil eggs this round.  Oh, I still called Momma Debi to make sure I had it right...but I told her the steps before she told me.  Win!  It only took years for my brain to put that into long term memory.  

Icing the eggs right out of the boil is the key to clean peeling, well in most cases it's clean peeling.  You still have to fight with a few and let those little suckers know who is boss.  It just wouldn't be fun if they all were easy now would it?

  

I made two different fillings for these eggs.  One was with the normal Miracle Whip, mustard, salt, pepper, and a splash of pickle juice all topped with paprika.  

The other one was more my style with Greek yogurt, mustard, salt, pepper, lemon juice, and more of a splash of pickle juice all topped with paprika.  

I thought they tasted real similar to the real deal and was happy with the experimenting.

My mom, sister-in-law, and I were visiting yesterday morning while eating toast about how once you start cleaning up cooking a bit with real ingredients, it seems your taste really does change.  It's all a process.  A process which still includes things like maple donuts and hot cross buns on Easter Sunday after eating "sour" deviled eggs all week leading up to the holiday.     

A Pie and Pigs Fly

I believe in the power of positive thinking and truly writing your own story.  What follows here is a silly example but it's still one in which I thought about something and how I wanted it to turn out and then made it happen.  Wrote the story so to speak.  

A couple weeks before I went on my spring trip to Arizona, I had this feeling of wanting to bake a pie with my mom, door open to the backyard letting the breeze float in. 

It happened.  The pie started in the afternoon with the crust making while the sun was still out and ended after enjoying a delicious meal outside made by Dad-o.  

After the crust went into the fridge that afternoon, I went on a bike ride with both of my parents at the same time for the first time ever in my thirty years of existence.  When you grow up on a farm in North Dakota, summer is for working.  There are a great deal of when pigs fly moments that seem to happen when in that desert air.  If you would have told my eleven year old self that one day I'd be riding bike down a street in an Arizona city with my mom next to me and my dad ahead of us taking the lead, I would have gave you a look.  A look and then a when pigs fly.  

Never count things out I guess.  

My parents left after the sun disappeared to get Sister Pister from the airport and I finished the pie with my ugliest lattice work to date while music joined the breeze floating.  The pie went in the oven and I finished my glass of white by the fire.  I could live by a fire all the time, these constant cold bones of mine love being roasted.    

Sometimes things just feel really right.  All is aligned and you just can't help but give a thank you kiss to the sky.  Give a thank you to when pigs fly.   

An Obvious Correlation

The mirrors in the men's bathrooms are more flattering, like by a landslide.  Don't ask me how I know this...I just do.  Men are on to something as evidenced by the following two truth nuggets.  They have tilted mirrors, or some other form of fun house style I'm not aware, in their bathrooms to visually lean the body out.  And then you know how some of them do that trick where they wear their pants with a belt up on the middle of their port belly so from the front they look like a cut in half svelte man but then, but then, when they turn to the side it's like they put a rubber band on an egg?  A rubber band on an egg.  You know that one right?  

I don't know how a woman could re-create that look because well...I just don't.  Titled mirrors though!  We could do that one!  

There's nowhere else to go with this other than to talk about soup.  

Clearly.  

In specific, soup out of Grandma Gladys's stainless steel pot.  It really just brings me such joy to chop vegetables and get them going in her pot.  The soup cooking with the smell wafting, knowing it's a piece from her.  Such joy.

Taking pictures of things with sunlight streaming in on a Sunday afternoon also brings me a silly amount of joy.  

This soup recipe goes something like this:

Cut up whatever vegetables you have in the fridge.  This time it was carrots, celery, leeks, brussel sprouts, kale, and a sweet potato.  Heat up olive oil in the bottom of the pot and then saute in the veggies in a smart order with salt and pepper.  Like first the carrots, leek, and celery and then add the brussel sprouts and then the kale with some crushed garlic.

Once your veggies are all sauteed, add chicken or turkey soup stock and the seasonings of thyme, bay leaves, and parsley.  Finally throw in the sweet potato chunks.  If you wanted to add noodles or rice or something else carbo-esque, go for it.

Meat or no meat?  Totally your choice.  It's a soup.  It's not fancy, nor does it have rules.  Cook it on low until you can't stand not eating it anymore. 

Such joy I tell you.  
  

This From the Girl

This is coming from the girl who used to consider boiling noodles as cooking and the girl who used to be entirely freaked out from the thought of raw chicken.  I blame the raw chicken loathing years on my childhood times of butchering chickens...the two nails on a board and the smell and the gut pulling...I will stop now but that business will haunt you for more than a day. 

 

Appetizing huh? 

 

Moving on. 

 

All of that oddness to say, I really love cooking.  The figuring out what combination of flavors will work and the chopping and the experimenting and the planning and really, I love it all. 

 

I tried this chicken fajita marinade last week and it was mighty tasty.  After it was cooked of course. 

 

 

Good thing I've overcome the raw chicken fear! 

 

1/2 cup of beer

1/3 cup of freshly squeezed lime juice

1 Tbsp. olive oil

1 Tbsp. brown sugar (or honey if you are weird like me)

1 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce (don't tell me if there is sugar in that sometimes it's better not to look thank you very much)

1/2 tsp. ground cumin

dash of salt

2 cloves of garlic (minced)

1 Tbsp. chopped cilantro

 

Whisk and marinade for at least three hours as chicken doesn't like to let marinade in.  They are independent ones, not wanting to break down their walls...

 

And that is why I should not have this much free time.  I'm one step away from chicken relationship psychology analogies.   

 

 

Let me count the ways I can photograph garlic and lime.  Again with the free time. 

 

 

Then, chop your fajita veggies and admire their beauty. 

 

 

Then right before the chicken is thrown on the grill, make some homemade guacamole with avocados, tomatoes, cilantro, salt, pepper, and lemon or lime juice. 

 

 

Once you go homemade with guacamole, you'll never go back.

 

 

And finally, right as the chicken is hitting the heat on the patio, give your veggies a slight dusting of Cajun spice and olive oil while they sauté in the kitchen.  I've never used Cajun before for this task, but it really worked well with the flavor from the marinade and the smear of guacamole I put on every single bite.  Delicious! 

 

Cooking.  Oh how I love you. 

 



Clean Cookies

Snow day around these parts today.  I think it probably is more of an ice day but I'm not the expert on those kinds of things.  I just know my phone rang at 5 something this morning with a recording of something to the effects of there's no school today so wear your pajamas until 10:20 am, write a blog post about oatmeal and raisin cookies you made, drink too much coffee, and...

 

Well, really it just said no school. 

 

Here's what is not nice about a snow day, you have to make it up. 

 

Here's what is nice about a snow day, it's not a planned day off so all of the laundry and cleaning and organizing and other getting stuff done that is usually saved for those days off...is well...done. 

 

 

This morning I tried out a recipe I found on Pinterest.  And it is a win.   

 

Basically, you take 2 large too ripe bananas and 1 cup of quick oats and mash them together.  You might have to add a little more oats because all bananas are not created equally. 

 

That's the base of the cookie and anything could be added after the initial mix.  Chocolate chips, chopped up walnuts, cinnamon, tiny apple pieces, raisins, etc...  Whatever your heart desires.  I added a quarter cup of raisins to mine. 

 

Then make sure you grease your cookie sheet because caked on oatmeal is about as fun to clean up an entire bowl of popcorn spilled on the floor of your car.   

 

Drop cookies and slightly smash down with fork.  I made 15 cookies. 

 

Bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes and then place the cookies on either parchment paper or a wire rack so they don't get soggy while they cool. 

 

 

But I recommend eating one or two while they are warm.  Delicious. 

 

If you make fifteen cookies, each one has 37 calories.  That's figured with the raisins added.  If you added other things, it would change.  Stating the obvious there.

 

 

I enjoyed two this morning with my third cup of coffee, they filled me right up and are still sticking two and a half hours later.  That's a winner of a breakfast. 

 

 

I know these will also come in quite handy when I have that I'm so hungry I might eat my own hand feeling. 

 

Hand...handy...I'll stop now.