From the Cookbook: Easy Easter Egg Macaroon Nests

“When we lose one blessing, 

another is often most unexpectedly given in its place.” 

~ C.S. Lewis

I've been thinking a lot about change today.  Unexpected change.  That is probably because it seems to be swallowing us alive around here.

Over the weekend, my sweet baby fell awkwardly (and horrifically) on his right leg and snapped his femur bone in half.  That is a sound no parent should have to hear, and a pain that no child should have to endure.

Instead of tending to weekend chores and errands, my husband and I found ourselves in one doctor's office, two different hospitals, one ambulance, and several waiting rooms.

And we got off easy.

Our toddler woke from anesthesia to find himself in a body cast.

On a normal day my baby would be running about the house in superhero costume while wielding a sword (as is his usual modus operandi).  Instead, he laid in his crib and whimpered, "Oh, dear!  I can't move!  Oh, dear!"

At such times, it is so easy for me to descend into a dark place--one upholstered in doubt and carpeted in fear.  (I love how I have the tendency to decorate--even in my neuroses.)  I worry that my little boy's leg will never be the same.  I worry that he is in pain.  I worry that all this immobility will staunch his creativity and turn him into a screen-loving couch potato.  I worry that somehow the fall is my fault.

And most of all, I worry that this will be his very first memory.

But then I look at the apricot blossoms outside and realize that perhaps the greatest beauty of spring is that it dawns after long, dark winters. Spring wields an alchemic sort of magic: grey turns to grace, branches turn to buds, and death turns to life. The hardest part of this miraculous process is to be patient through our leg-breaking winters and to look for the blessings beginning to bloom around us.


So in honor of healing femurs and abundant blessings, I'm sharing a delightful little cookie that captures the beauty of spring and the joy of emerging through adversity stronger than you were before.

I've seen versions like this one floating around the internet, but I think this one is the easiest version yet.

Easter Egg Macaroon Nests

Ingredients

¼ cup flour flour
⅔ cup sugar
¼ teaspoon salt
3 cups sweetened, flaked coconut
4 egg whites
1 teaspoon almond extract

semi-sweet chocolate chips

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Grease cookie sheet or line it with parchment paper.
2. Combine flour, sugar, salt and coconut in a mixing bowl.
3. Stir in egg whites and almond extract. Mix well.
4. Drop tablespoonfuls onto lined baking sheets and shape into even mounds with fingers or a spoon.
5. Bake 20 minutes or until golden brown.
6. When macaroons come out of the oven, press down the center with your thumb or a tart shaper to make an indent where the eggs will go.
7. Immediately fill indents with a few semi-sweet chocolate chips.  (The heat from the cookies will melt the chocolate within a few minutes.)
8. Smooth softened chocolate with the box of a spoon.
9. Place candy eggs on softened chocolate center and let cool.

Macaroon mounds on the cookie sheet before baking.

After being pressed in the center with a tart shaper, the cookies are ready for their chocolate centers.  As you can see here, the chocolate starts to melt almost immediately after you put the chips in.

 

The miracle of change is that it makes you appreciate things that you've never taken the time to notice before.  Take today, for instance.  Today I am totally and completely and almost tearfully grateful for two-year-old cousins and text messaging.  My sweet nephew (who is just a few months younger than my son) sent a video to our house in a text.  In delightful toddler style, my nephew asked my son if he liked dinosaurs and The Very Hungry Caterpillar and going to the potty.  My son watched this video over and over again, and each time, he would laugh and wave and then give the screen a kiss goodbye. 

I am so grateful for little blessings like these.  I don't know if God has a favorite season, but I'm placing my bets on spring: I simply don't know of a parent who doesn't love watching great things come from small things, whether they be yellow daffodils or baby birds or small acts of kindness from one cousin to another.

From the Cookbook: Owl Cookies

A Wise Owl

A wise old owl
Sat in an oak.
The more he saw,
The less he spoke.
The less he spoke,
The more he heard.
Why can't we be like
That wise old bird?

~ Edward Hersey Richards

My mouth gets me into trouble.  All the time.  When I was little, my mother called me "frank."  I thought I was being precocious. When my in-laws called me "opinionated," I thought I was just being honest.  And on Sunday, when I offended that grown man at church after telling him what I really thought of his behavior, I thought I was being brave.  

The older I get, the more I realize how important it is to "listen" to others, especially BEFORE we speak.  For example, I have student right now who is testing me to my limits.  This person is disrespectful, antagonistic, bull-headed, and sarcastic.  Yep, a teacher's dream.  I hoped I would warm up to them.  I haven't.  A few weeks ago, I arrived at my breaking point.  I penned a stirring rant in my head that would force this student into humble submission after all the misery they have caused me this semester.  I summoned my frankest and most opinionated and bluntest self for the delivery.  

But then (uncharacteristically), I held back.  

I don't know why, but I just couldn't do it.  Instead, I decided to LISTEN to the student for a few days---and not just to their words, but to the "message" behind the words.  I had to sift through heavy shovelings of attitude and sass, but at the bottom of the pile, I found an individual who was scared and lonely and insecure.  They had come from a broken home, they didn't fit in, and they were starved for attention.  I now realize that the hesitancy I felt in speaking to this person was God and a host of heavenly angels clamping my lips shut so that I would learn the virtues of listening FIRST and speaking last.  This realization hasn't made my semester any easier, but it has made it more meaningful.  When this student makes my day a trial, I can see it for what it is instead of what it is not.

As a nod to the wisdom of "listening" as the wise old owl did in the famous nursery rhyme, I have decided to share these adorable little owl cookies with you.

I started with a spiced sugar cookie dough like this one and then started to assemble my little creatures.  

1. Start by cutting a circle of dough about 1/4 inch thick.  
2. Next, create two small balls of dough for the eyes.  
3. Press a chocolate chip with the bottom side up into the center of each of the eyeballs.
4. Take a whole almond, turn it on its side and press it between the eyeballs.
5. Finally, take a fork and gently press it twice into the bottom of the circle to create the impression of wings or feet.
6. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes or until cookies are set (not brown).

I will be honest here: I think I would have preferred peanut butter cookie dough for the base.  Without icing, the sugar cookie dough was just too blah.  But holy moly are they cute!

What I suggest you do now is make a batch of these, take them to a neighbor, and then just "listen" to the compliments roll in . . . :)

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From the Cookbook: Fancy, Homemade Graham Crackers

"To cook for the pleasure of it, to devote a portion of our leisure to it, is to declare our independence from the corporations seeking to organize our every waking moment into yet another occasion for consumption. . . . It is to reject the debilitating notion that, at least while we’re at home, production is work best done by someone else, and the only legitimate form of leisure is consumption."

~ Michael Pollan, Cooked

I try not to buy into TV gimmicks.  I know that it is going to take more than a Swiffer to make my house immaculate, more than Grey Poupon to make me refined, and more than a bottle of beer to make me look good in a bikini.  (I'm afraid an entire distillery couldn't even manage that one.)  

Media is full of far-fetched ideas, and for the most part, I choose not to buy into them.  

Except for one.  

Until recently, I really wanted to believe that Keebler elves spent their days in a far off tree singing jingles and making fudge-striped cookies and graham crackers.  I mean, I realize that elves aren't real.  Everyone knows they haven't been around since the days of Hobbits.  But sometimes it's just easier to think that some products magically appear at the store.  It is how I avoid the responsibility, initiative, and hassle it would take to produce something on my own.  (I also like to believe that there are ground beef, Coca-Cola, and feminine product elves who are willing to produce these mysteries for me so I don't have to think more about these products than absolutely necessary.)

But then my friend Johanne introduced me to her homemade graham crackers and my "elf theory" came to a screeching halt.  She calls them "Fancy Grahams" because they are more than just graham crackers---they are lacy bits of delight that go uncommonly well with a glass of milk.  She was kind enough to let me in on the "magic" that goes into making these little darlings.

  

 

First, you mix up a batch of graham cracker dough and roll it into individual balls.

Then you place the graham cracker dough balls onto a heated mini pizelle iron.  (You can find these on Ebay or at Bed, Bath and Beyond during the holidays.)

After only a minute or so, you'll have golden and delicious graham crackers that are anything but the blase, dry versions you get at the store.  These have just a hint of chewiness that makes them all the more satisfying.

Johanne dolled up a batch of these for the 4th of July with white chocolate and sprinkles.  Just when I thought these couldn't get any better . . .

And all of a sudden, instead of going to bed at a decent time knowing that the elves will be hard at work creating the world's graham crackers, I find myself up into the wee hours of the night scouring the internet for pizelle irons so that I can make my own batches of these babies.  Can you say s'mores?!

I guess it just goes to show you that sometimes the things we see on TV aren't true, sometimes elves aren't the only ones who can cook, and sometimes homemade graham crackers are just plain better than those from a box.  Especially when they are "fancy."

Sorry, elves.  But there it is.   

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From the Cookbook: Caprese Pasta Salad

"A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands."

-Lord Byron

Sorry, my sweet little blog! I do still love you. My kids just needed potty training, and my job needed me to work, and my house needed to be cleaned!

None of those things actually happened, by the way; but they were supposed to. I tried.

Anyhow, I thought it was time to help Erika out and make a post! I would like share with you my BEST pasta salad recipe! Caprese Pasta Salad

I don't like pasta salad.

That was until I met THIS pasta salad.

I got proposed to because this salad was so good.

By a cousin.

But it still counts, right?

And it speaks to the magic deliciousness of this salad.

TRY IT! Your 4th of July guests will thank you :)

The most AWESOME Caprese Pasta Salad ever!!!

1- Boil 16 oz. of pasta (I used farfalle) until al dente.
2- Meanwhile, saute 1 diced onion and 1/2 tsp of salt in a little olive oil until caramelized and golden brown. Add 2 cloves of minced garlic, a pinch of red pepper flakes, and 1/4 cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil.
3- Mix your pasta and yummy garlic onion goodness together. Add any salt and pepper needed to taste. Let cool. It's already delicious. You could stop here and just eat it, but it's going to get better...
4- Put your pasta in a large serving dish, and cover with spinach leaves, pieces of Fresh Milk Mozzarella, sliced Cherry Tomatoes (1 clamshell should do it), and freshly torn or sliced Basil leaves.
5- Make a simple Balsamic Dressing to pour over it: 2 TBSP Balsamic Vinegar, 1/3 C Olive Oil, 1 tsp. Dijon Mustard, 1 tsp. Honey, and salt and pepper to taste. Mix it like crazy, and drizzle over the salad.

Aaaaaaaaaand, you're welcome ;)

Pride and Prejudice: Lemon Crinkle Tea Cookies

"Good gracious!" cried Maria, after a few minutes' silence, 
"it seems but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have happened!"
"A great many indeed," said her companion with a sigh.
"We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice! 
How much I shall have to tell!"
Elizabeth added privately, "And how much I shall have to conceal!" 

~ Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice Chapter 38

I had the most inspiring talk with a friend today.  She told me that her "word for the year" was  

AUTHENTICITY.  Authenticity, inside and out.  I don't know why this idea comes as such a revelation to me.  After all, I'd like to think that I am already an authentic person:  I say what I think (sometimes), I am a natural blond (mostly), and I wear minimal makeup (but only because I don't want to spend the time or money to wear lots of makeup).

But who am I really?  Sure, I dream of discovering that I am really a Pulitzer Prize writer with the heart of Gandhi who has the coordination of a Russian gymnast and the legs (and knee caps) of a Princess Barbie.  But that's not really me.  So, if I were being authentic to my true self, what would I do with my time?  What choices would I make?  How would I treat others?  How would I treat myself?

I'm realizing that in order to answer these questions, I am going to need a lot of heart-to-hearts with myself, God, and a really affordable therapist.

But here is one thing I do know:  I am girl who loves a beautiful tea cup. There is something about the graceful curve and melodious "clink" of a china cup that makes my heart flutter.  Maybe it's because I have three liters of English blood pumping through my veins.  Or maybe it is because I am going through "Downton Abbey" withdrawals.  Or maybe it is just because it is who I am--no explanation needed.

So in an effort to be "authentic" today, I bypassed the water bottles and the mismatched plastic tumblers in the cupboard and treated myself a drink from a blue chintz tea cup instead.  I could have sworn that while I held its delicate handle in my fingers, I was nicer, thinner, and smarter than I had been without it.

 The best part is that I paired my cup of passion fruit herbal tea with this lemon crinkle cookie.  These are a fresh, delicate, and zesty cookie that are the PERFECT accompaniment to ANY cup of tea.

Lemon Crinkle Cookies

1 stick of butter
1 cup of sugar
1 egg
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1-2 teaspoons lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 to 1 3/4 cups flour
1 cup powdered sugar (in separate bowl)

Cream butter and sugar.  Add egg, vanilla, lemon juice and zest.  Mix in dry ingredients.  Form into 1 inch balls and roll in powdered sugar.  Place on a cookie sheet at bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes or until the bottom of the cookie is golden brown and the top of the cookie has a matte (not glossy) finish.  When cool, dust with remaining powdered sugar (I hate to waste it) and serve with your favorite cup of tea.


So if whatever it is that your "authentic" self loves---whether it be tea parties or picnics in the orchard or feminine bedrooms --- EMBRACE IT!  As for me, I'm going to go embrace another cup of herbal tea and a Lemon Crinkle Cookie (or two).

Here's to AUTHENTICITY!

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Pride and Prejudice: Raspberry Blackout Cake Goodness

"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!" cried Jane. 

"Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed above them all! If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!" 

"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness."

Yesterday was our sister Hillary's birthday.  Hillary is lots of things---a fantastic mother, a dedicated runner, an insightful reader, and an adept CEO of her household.  But she also Jane Bennett.  

I mean it.  

Not only is she beautifully doe-eyed and creamy complected, but she is kind.  And gentle.  And good.  In short, she is pretty much everything Lizzy and I are not.

(I should say here that Miriam is also a definitively better person than I am---even if her birth order means that she is the Mary Bennett of our family.)

So, in an effort to celebrate this dear sister of ours and all of her goodness, I made her the "goodest" cake I knew of.

This endeavor was inspired by one of our favorite bakeries in New Mexico called Flying Star.  One of their signature cakes has layer upon layer of dense chocolate cake, tangy raspberry preserves, rich chocolate mouse, and creamy, dark ganache.  But since I had neither the time nor gas money to make the out-of-state pilgrimage for this delicacy, I decided to try my own hand at making a Raspberry Blackout Cake.

I started with this recipe for the cake (omitting the chocolate chips) and baked it in two, nine-inch round cake pans.

While the cake was cooking, I whipped up a batch our favorite mousse from the Strawberry Chocolate Mousse Cake recipe.

When the cakes had finished cooking and had cooled, I cut both of them in half with a long serated knife, making sure that the layers were equal heights.

And then I began layering:

Layer 1: Cake

Layer 2:  1/3 cup Raspberry Preserves

Layer 3:  1/3 of the Chocolate Mousse

Layer 4: Cake

Layer 5:  1/3 cup Raspberry Preserves

Layer 6:  1/3 of the Chocolate Mousse

Layer 7:  Cake

Layer 8:  1/3 cup Raspberry Preserved

Layer 9:  1/3 of the Chocolate Mousse

Layer 10:  Cake

Next, I covered the top and sides of the cake with a chocolate ganache.  (I used chocolate chips for the chopped chocolate in this recipe.)  

Finally, I decorated and garnished the cake with some drizzled white chocolate, a package of Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Hazelnut Pirouettes, fresh raspberries, and some ribbon.

When I delivered the cake to Hillary, she was kind enough to cut a slice right then and there so I could take a picture of the inside of the cake.

She slowly put a piece of the cake in her mouth, and then she sighed.

"Erika, this cake is as good as it looks," she said.

Mission accomplished:  A good birthday cake for an even better woman.

  
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Pride and Prejudice: Bon Bon Living

"Oh! my dear Lydia," she cried, "when shall we meet again?"
"Oh, I don't know. Not these two or three years, perhaps."
"Write to me very often, my dear."
"As often as I can. But you know married women have never much time for writing. 
My sisters may write to me. They will have nothing else to do." 

~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice Chapter 53 

Lydia Bennett has the brains of a sea cucumber, but I have to hand it to her on this one:
Married women truly are slammed for time.

It's not that marriage in and of itself is time consuming (unless you count the Phase 10 marathon/feud of 1996 that almost ended up with my husband and I in divorce court).  It's just that marriage leads to babies who lead to LOTS of meals, laundry, carpooling, homework, housecleaning, and diapers.  

So today, as I was simultaneously extracting the toilet water from my carpet and disinfecting the toddler who had dumped it there, I thought of the person who coined the image of "a housewife who sits around all day eating bon bons" and decided that they were single.  Male.  And without kids.

So while I may not have any time to sit around and eat bon bons, I HAVE at least discovered a fast, easy, and crowd-pleasing way to make them.

Here is a recipe for Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Truffles. 

(My kids thought they had died and gone to heaven when they tasted these.  And the best part is that these don't use any eggs so that NO one has to die and go to heaven from Salmonella.)

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Truffles

(adapted from Taste of Home)

1 stick butter, softened

3/4 cup brown sugar

1 can sweetened condensed milk

2 teaspoons vanilla

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 1/4 cups flour

1 cup mini chocolate chips

chopped pecans (optional)

* 1 1/2 cups melted chocolate chips or almond bark for dipping 

Cream the butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in vanilla. Gradually add flour and salt alternately with milk, beating well after each addition. Stir in chocolate chips and nuts (optional).  Shape into 1-in. balls; place on waxed paper-lined baking sheets. Loosely cover and refrigerate until firm.  In a microwave, melt chocolate/candy coating; stir until smooth. Dip balls in coating; allow excess to drip off. Place on waxed paper-lined baking sheets. Refrigerate until firm.  Makes 5 dozen.

And as if these didn't taste good enough on their own, they also look adorable when dolled up with a few sprinkles and swirls. 

I would suggest that you do a taste-test of your own to see how you like them, but we all know you will be too busy making these darlings to actually eat them.  Ah, the rub of "married life" . . .

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Poor Richard's Almanac: Food Storage Friendly Fiesta Chicken Soup

"Eat few suppers, and you'll need few medicines." 

~ Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard's Almanack

With all due respect to Mr. Franklin's quote above, eating "few" suppers is what nightmares are made of.  

At least mine are.

That's why I've earnestly tried to make sure that our family always has an emergency dinner supply waiting for us, whatever comes our way.  That doesn't mean that I've got a cellar full of beef bourguignon and Waldorf salad.  It's more like a toddler cafeteria with all of its Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Spaghettios, pudding, and Oreos.

(Wait.  Strike the Oreos.  I finished off the last package on Wednesday.)

But then I stumbled across this gem-of-a-recipe and realized that EVERY ingredient can be kept in long-term food storage.  And the best part:  

It tastes great.

(Believe me . . . you can't say that about every food storage offering.  Just ask Miriam about her pinto bean brownie experiment.)

 We eat this soup on a regular basis, and not just when hurricanes, blizzards, and unemployment come to town.  It's a crowd pleaser of a meal that tastes great any time of year.

Here is what you'll need.

Fiesta Chicken Soup

4 cups chicken broth

10 oz can chicken breast

1 can tomatoes with green chiles

1 can diced tomatoes

1 can black beans

1 can chili beans (or ranch style beans)

1 can corn

1 can diced green chiles

2 teaspoons cumin

1 teaspoon garlic

3 tablespoons of cornstarch mixed with 1/2 cup water

Mix together.  Simmer for 20 minutes and serve with chips or tortillas, cheese and sour cream.

It isn't like this house is prepared for any and every eventuality---especially if it might require toilet paper, Scotch tape, or dog food.  We are fresh out.

But, if you are looking for a tasty dinner in an emergency, then my house is the place to be.  

Unless, of course, you're hoping for some Oreos, too.  Then, I'm afraid, you're out of luck.

Poor Richard's Almanac: Waste not, want not

Have you something to do tomorrow? Do it today.

-Poor Richard's Almanac

 This week is so lovely and sunny here, but last week told a different story. When I moved here, it made me laugh to see everyone cover their trees and plants with blankets when temps hit 32 degrees, but now I have my own yard, and I get it. SAVE THE PLANTS!! Everything here dies when we hit 32 degrees, because everything that grows here survives 120 degree temps in the summer. You can't have it both ways. So as we headed into a week of freezing temps, I headed out and covered the precious plant life in our yard, and set about harvesting two trees worth of lemons, and a full tree of pomegranates. 

What to do, what to do...

It's delicious. I love lemon sorbet, but the pomegranate seems to mellow out the zing a little bit, so it's even better. Plus, I love the color.

And look how cute it is served in egg cups :)

Lemon Pomegranate Sorbet

2 C Water
2 C Sugar
1 C Lemon Juice (These were ripe lemons. You may need to use less if yours are more tart)
1 C Pomegranate Arils

Heat the water and sugar just to a boil, and remove from heat. Add lemon juice. Use a food processor or food chopper to break down the pomegranate arils into a juicy paste, and strain through a mesh sieve into the lemon mixture. Now freeze!

You don't even need an ice cream mixer for this---I didn't feel like pulling mine out, so I just froze it in a bowl and took the bowl out of the freezer and stirred it every once in a while to break up the ice crystals as they were forming. The result? Soft, tangy, perfect sorbet. 

Enjoy!
 

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