tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79775293599561464772024-03-19T01:47:17.521-07:00A Book Of CookryeCooking, recipes, vintage, desserts, Fanny Cradock, friends, and kitchen disasters!S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.comBlogger482125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-57074500585416893592024-03-17T13:43:00.000-07:002024-03-17T15:45:21.242-07:00Potato Custards: or, Sometimes the mundane things are the strangest<p>Ever wished your mashed potatoes had more dignity?</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Potato Custards</b><br />
½ cup mashed potatoes*<br />
½ cup milk<br />
1 egg<br />
½ tsp salt<br />
1 pinch mace<br />
<br />
Heat oven to 350°. Grease five or six individual custard cups. Or, coat a cupcake pan with cooking spray.<br />
Thoroughly whisk everything together. Or, if using fresh potatoes that still have a few lumps in them after mashing, drop all the ingredients into a blender and let it run until everything is perfectly smooth.<br />
Pour into the prepared pans, filling them about two-thirds full. Bake until they are firm and puff up, about 15-20 minutes.<br />
Serve warm.<br />
<br />
*Instant mashed potatoes are fine.<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: Ask Mrs. Wilson, <i>Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger,</i> July 7 1919, page 12</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>
This comes to us from Ask Mrs. Wilson, gently yet firmly taught the Philadelphia newsreading public how to cook things the domestic-science-approved way. But Mrs. Wilson did not pretend that everyone with a copy of the Philadelphia <i>Evening Public Ledger</i> had bottomless grocery budgets. Only a few months before today's column, Mrs. Wilson <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/01/one-egg-cake-or-economizing-never.html" target="_blank">ran a recipe for a one-egg cake</a> in response to a spike in egg prices. Today, Mrs. Wilson ran an entire recipe of exclusively potato recipes for the benefit of those of us on a tight budget.
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</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0Yy-kPu2dUeeHV9CIE3qq2cCVnv6aDBlZwEpmDr0ghpagVtutFSnBn-s87_lOFS2Ptq16g8NVqkvHupZUH6PX5dt1rh7fcf8vNN28h2STbQaidPAuTJ-k48f_Q14WsD1EYfN-EmI3mieASZv0_Y7EElSYX-rFiNwdAOUkPqpL6c9pX9lq6X-UN98HgT1/s271/1%20potatoes%20-%20Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="207" data-original-width="271" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0Yy-kPu2dUeeHV9CIE3qq2cCVnv6aDBlZwEpmDr0ghpagVtutFSnBn-s87_lOFS2Ptq16g8NVqkvHupZUH6PX5dt1rh7fcf8vNN28h2STbQaidPAuTJ-k48f_Q14WsD1EYfN-EmI3mieASZv0_Y7EElSYX-rFiNwdAOUkPqpL6c9pX9lq6X-UN98HgT1/s1600/1%20potatoes%20-%20Copy.JPG" width="271" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ask Mrs. Wilson, <i>Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger,</i> July 7 1919, page 12</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />However, the first line of her article about potatoes hasn't aged as well as the recipes: "This nutritious tuber is said to have saved the Irish people from famine...."
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</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKjIcB29wxB0pS1ja4UzXGpEpmd6SsMufrES6GBp-GTU8wXh_jlVPoZaNOklR5-ljIGiDYH1ENkD3H8vlhzCDk_WRQNVX0HXKXZ0E7O2D3k0FjFtDm2zlNdKRW9X3Onl1rVX3TZyJMAPysyD7dRDjpjzn-6Hs1Afu2Q8zn-XwbU2sqgyiyRb12fpIJDAm/s1355/1%20potatoes%20-%20Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1355" data-original-width="815" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKjIcB29wxB0pS1ja4UzXGpEpmd6SsMufrES6GBp-GTU8wXh_jlVPoZaNOklR5-ljIGiDYH1ENkD3H8vlhzCDk_WRQNVX0HXKXZ0E7O2D3k0FjFtDm2zlNdKRW9X3Onl1rVX3TZyJMAPysyD7dRDjpjzn-6Hs1Afu2Q8zn-XwbU2sqgyiyRb12fpIJDAm/s320/1%20potatoes%20-%20Copy.JPG" width="192" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger,</i> July 7 1919, page 12<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Mrs. Wilson may have an incomplete understanding of then-recent history, but she treads on sounder footing further down the page when she says "Boiling potatoes in their jackets will cause the potato to lose about 2 percent of its nutritive value, while peeling before cooking causes a loss of 14 percent." In other words, Mrs. Wilson endorses our practice of finger-picking the skins off of cooked potatoes instead of spending long irksome hours with a potato peeler. She confirms this in her directions for edible potato cups (for containing salads): "Boil medium-sized potatoes in their jackets. Cool and then peel."
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All of this brings us to today's recipe: potato custards. It was the only unusual recipe on the entire page. While some of the other recipes are a little different than today (the potatoes au gratin uses white gravy instead of cheese sauce), the custard recipe was the only one that I literally couldn't imagine what it tasted like. Therefore I had to make it.
</p><p>
Mrs. Wilson directs us to mash the potatoes and force them through a sieve. This ensures that are mashed potatoes are <i>perfectly</i> smooth. But we at A Book of Cookrye had a much easier way to ensure spud perfection: use a box of instant flakes.<!--I ignored the fact that boiling the potatoes, drying them, and then rewatering them probably has more nutritive loss than peeling them before boiling.-->
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKJQ8y_SjRQIoYr2dlmx9x0Zk-SFu9hUa4F-t9jfo6JvpDIsvEIJNOsmywyGq98YyLGrHMGoAp99QHdqKBraj2CX2gJOEaX-snaHHXfDCbnTDPBF2jSO2EIUXC4ShIJfZkF3me6fkJxBqDZ4julvuJgWM3XWBo0Gbub_nMK_4D_tZzaeiG5K-OIRGP-3q/s4096/IMG_20240313_000415450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKJQ8y_SjRQIoYr2dlmx9x0Zk-SFu9hUa4F-t9jfo6JvpDIsvEIJNOsmywyGq98YyLGrHMGoAp99QHdqKBraj2CX2gJOEaX-snaHHXfDCbnTDPBF2jSO2EIUXC4ShIJfZkF3me6fkJxBqDZ4julvuJgWM3XWBo0Gbub_nMK_4D_tZzaeiG5K-OIRGP-3q/s320/IMG_20240313_000415450.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After you have either mashed or reconstituted your potatoes, the recipe is pretty simple: add the rest of the ingredients and get out a whisk. That little smattering of brown powder floating on top of our mixture is the only expensive part of this recipe: a pinch of mace. <p></p><p>We haven't used mace for anything since the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2015/02/snow-muffins-or-of-course-canadians.html" target="_blank">snow muffins</a>, and the canister had long since disappeared. Much of it got used up when I said "I'm not using this anyway" and added it to cinnamon toast. I considered substituting nutmeg for mace since we already have it (nutmeg and mace come from the same plant), but decided that I should probably do this recipe <i>correctly</i>. This involved purchasing and paying for a (small!) shaker of mace.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivobvCkOyKPyxuGuWP-YwylSYf4BBu5uhK3VGkA47Yg40NV5aAlViWwjwnOXyFp95fc4cbTWe0ZSZsWepKFzt903hiwgKRhMRIQAB59nDcp88AAsvEpOs4QZvxsqxIgEzxNPkJRXBLfCltcGuBQMVSIQM8MA1L2ZgZm4FgNA0m-DC2vV5L-aS4gk-IW9O/s4096/IMG_20240313_000730306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivobvCkOyKPyxuGuWP-YwylSYf4BBu5uhK3VGkA47Yg40NV5aAlViWwjwnOXyFp95fc4cbTWe0ZSZsWepKFzt903hiwgKRhMRIQAB59nDcp88AAsvEpOs4QZvxsqxIgEzxNPkJRXBLfCltcGuBQMVSIQM8MA1L2ZgZm4FgNA0m-DC2vV5L-aS4gk-IW9O/s320/IMG_20240313_000730306.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Recipes like this make me wish stores had dispense-it-yourself spices, the same way a lot of them let you bag and price your own peanuts. It would be very helpful for those of us who want a single teaspoon of a spice we will never use again.
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After a quick stir, our potato custards looked like an unusually pale cake batter.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsprhMhWZFgQvIoqjuuyQ7oLwIBA1U1KMxfCidrF0QhQOyNWYLgFsGC4S_SedbqP8jT-ZOMkebzT5jqliXXhEhm1iwrGAXHbM1KurbweweAymgw-7nUs0cYHEMbNQF83Hqu1qPE0wWBo4EYINvgdRqYRSbhH-4H4Q3xiu-i10u9wGRmjtrAfDl1JFKo3L/s4096/IMG_20240313_000902732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsprhMhWZFgQvIoqjuuyQ7oLwIBA1U1KMxfCidrF0QhQOyNWYLgFsGC4S_SedbqP8jT-ZOMkebzT5jqliXXhEhm1iwrGAXHbM1KurbweweAymgw-7nUs0cYHEMbNQF83Hqu1qPE0wWBo4EYINvgdRqYRSbhH-4H4Q3xiu-i10u9wGRmjtrAfDl1JFKo3L/s320/IMG_20240313_000902732.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I decided to bake the custards in miniature pie pans because it seemed cute. I also noticed at this point that there was no sugar in these custards. While I am no stranger to savory custards, the omission seemed odd. And so, I sweetened one of the custards and baked the other exactly as written. (The sugary spud custard was bad. So we don't need to mention it again.)
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmxYPodL8b3H5CtXWeY5qIF_GXDFpvTA235epDQOL-JHbh3YHxEaYhiviKbX-QViV3pm5zVUYUJW1fmcGtSpSmgKdwJqvHRK2SVeC7ckjI_M20IrsbybgvTw0ZPtVAy1HSzPhpBJ3eHNHbyZCUhHMhIrHNh2IXGLgyvDfyWaO4pF_SL77913yOgl6P6hI/s4096/IMG_20240313_001327514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmxYPodL8b3H5CtXWeY5qIF_GXDFpvTA235epDQOL-JHbh3YHxEaYhiviKbX-QViV3pm5zVUYUJW1fmcGtSpSmgKdwJqvHRK2SVeC7ckjI_M20IrsbybgvTw0ZPtVAy1HSzPhpBJ3eHNHbyZCUhHMhIrHNh2IXGLgyvDfyWaO4pF_SL77913yOgl6P6hI/s320/IMG_20240313_001327514.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I have to credit Mrs. Wilson with this: every single one of her recipes I've tried has <i>worked.</i> Whether the potato custards were any good remained to be seen, but they behaved perfectly in the oven. Like our <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/12/pumpkin-tarts-or-its-always-pumpkin.html" target="_blank">pumpkin tarts</a>, they even puffed into nicely-shaped domes when they were done. Apparently ingredients are never unruly when Mrs. Wilson is in charge. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlcFIGmBQKkqLvyYJt3fQEyC_CnLlkvzTjDSz8sQGLzfnW6KQgGujcDGetoxsZvXObVuPyMUFMtLg__7dYgsr5nRlbBruvweqtar6Dqb2ai7s_c7HsxAPYPPZOQoagTpBu_Ebzxtq1EAWM7N_bkSVq0-GzwkJVXLe6GKdozTiFs1jcI79DKdfPWEyoULx/s4096/IMG_20240313_011147309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlcFIGmBQKkqLvyYJt3fQEyC_CnLlkvzTjDSz8sQGLzfnW6KQgGujcDGetoxsZvXObVuPyMUFMtLg__7dYgsr5nRlbBruvweqtar6Dqb2ai7s_c7HsxAPYPPZOQoagTpBu_Ebzxtq1EAWM7N_bkSVq0-GzwkJVXLe6GKdozTiFs1jcI79DKdfPWEyoULx/s320/IMG_20240313_011147309.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />These were the most formal mashed potatoes I've ever made. They had the exact texture of a <i>really</i> good cheesecake, but they tasted like mashed potatoes. It was like we subjected a cheesecake to a flavor transplant. The mace was an unexpectedly good addition. If you take nothing else from this recipe, try adding a pinch of mace to your mashed potatoes. <p></p><p>If you have ever wished your mashed potatoes were more presentational and dignified, this is the recipe for you. No more must your mashed potatoes be sloppily presented in whatever splattered shape they landed on the plate. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5I8oW__86qn7daING4gjoWyDCW9BVMwkAPGNDPAHAQCRLqUQod9k85pJ3WFeWGF0j1GN19DnMxGGBNdMq60NlZvV-aXz6_zcCf532heq5gpXo1nezqeU1ld4SFxGBp34NMjM4GTztjjiuJWw3XMeRlxmqk2vu9iwJams6yWfRhlMrZRd5Oo0UiTUga-c/s4096/IMG_20240313_022110471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5I8oW__86qn7daING4gjoWyDCW9BVMwkAPGNDPAHAQCRLqUQod9k85pJ3WFeWGF0j1GN19DnMxGGBNdMq60NlZvV-aXz6_zcCf532heq5gpXo1nezqeU1ld4SFxGBp34NMjM4GTztjjiuJWw3XMeRlxmqk2vu9iwJams6yWfRhlMrZRd5Oo0UiTUga-c/s320/IMG_20240313_022110471.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Today's potato custards seemed typical of Mrs. Wilson's recipes: fancier-looking than than I would have ever bothered with, but without adding any extra ingredients to the grocery list (aside from the mace, which will probably follow me from spice shelf to spice shelf until the end of time). In full disclosure, I definitely noticed the absence of butter in these, so you may want to add a bit to the recipe. But with that said, this is not a bad way to serve mashed potatoes.<br /></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-61381651412819103022024-03-09T03:20:00.000-08:002024-03-12T00:10:00.958-07:00Herbed Spaghetti: or, This is why we are all obsessed with pasta<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAKVnYexvpG9dFFL8ZqDh9pLGMITzhwXdbG3weTo3yXJnrN8XsuHRoAA_dAl_9k5LhgzBzT5QuTtspmam_tHP9riInFwDrTcs9EqItkmL04KhrITxKFPQ8bm_OkJDVMhaOfFCXckAYhobM64m1wj64KeNu4CJ1vW_gC8xeIZCXIvdOslIEHVT2aAxDi3b/s4096/IMG_20240224_222439557.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>Sometimes, the best things are simple and buttery.
</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Herbed Spaghetti</b><br />
1 pound thin spaghetti<br />
4 to 6 cloves garlic, pressed or finely minced<br />
3 tbsp olive oil<br />
½ cup butter, melted<br />
1 cup fresh herbs, chopped (chives, parsley, dill, green onion tops)<br />
Salt to taste<br />
<br />
Cook the spaghetti in salted water until done.<br />
While the spaghetti is cooking, saute the garlic in the oil until golden. Remove from heat. Add butter, herbs, and salt.<br />
After draining the spaghetti, toss it with the herbs. Serve immediately. Serves 6.<br />
<br />
<i> Herbed Pasta with Mushrooms:</i><br />
Quarter all ingredient amounts. Instead of spaghetti, use pasta shells, corkscrews, or any other noodle shape that is suitable for mixing with other things. (With spaghetti or any other string-type pasta, the mushrooms will never quite mix in.)<br />
After the garlic is golden, add 8 oz of sliced mushrooms to the frying pan. Saute the mushrooms until done. Then slowly add about 2 tablespoons of flour to thicken the pan juices, stirring very fast to prevent lumps. Stir in the butter, and when all is melted, remove from heat.<br />
Mix with the hot, drained noodles and serve immediately.<br />
<br />
<i>Note:</i> If you're not serving the spaghetti directly out of the pot, put it in the serving bowl before adding the herbs. That way, none of the herbs cling to the pot and get left behind.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: <i>The Cotton Country Collection</i>; Junior League of Monroe, Louisiana; 1972
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</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpvTlVyyT13XC-QPWdgqW5TeDymczQFogOyJ_OpESoEO61ixNznXtZ-lskoAapb8QpRvGFqaXRgFmt7hyaTSKDpE2bk7hCGvFjFIZipwohSCAJ1VHTMvIl5iSfO-MFMVfpSZmKzm_5z6MwXwXo3D0VKQ9dOZTHu1vM3z0gM_2ExHgJAmY4Gfa13C1PKZY/s2682/IMG_20240224_144456306.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1864" data-original-width="2682" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpvTlVyyT13XC-QPWdgqW5TeDymczQFogOyJ_OpESoEO61ixNznXtZ-lskoAapb8QpRvGFqaXRgFmt7hyaTSKDpE2bk7hCGvFjFIZipwohSCAJ1VHTMvIl5iSfO-MFMVfpSZmKzm_5z6MwXwXo3D0VKQ9dOZTHu1vM3z0gM_2ExHgJAmY4Gfa13C1PKZY/s320/IMG_20240224_144456306.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The Cotton Country Collection</i>; Junior League of Monroe, Louisiana; 1972</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />This recipe appears in a community cookbook with no one's name underneath it. I find the unsigned recipes in compilation cookbooks the most interesting. Why would anyone send a recipe and not want credit for it? Or do anonymous recipes happen when the Cookbook Committee feel like something should not be omitted from the book, even if no one sent it in? Perhaps someone in a Committee (always capitalized) meeting said something like "No one sent in herbed spaghetti? That shows up at every summer social!" and wrote the ingredient list out on the spot.<br /><p></p><p>
At any rate, this seemed like as good a time as any to try out this knife I got for Christmas. Its premise of operation looked intriguing, although the eagle on the handle is a bit much for me. I don't like my kitchenware to look like it's headed to a political rally.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9qnyAkHu-Yqd_U3chyRx3zdUECnra5Mbj2HRESIOjo_-qyyq6TRRDd_G4PfuwqJ_9SeqiIXFumomHvvrv5BDfO_wlgxD3Drbs4zaqBWEAa1suc_NGbb3cZMLEB91buGn-ufX3CDVkV5UqqHluTw_iV3mlCytlA3WnlyCZOY4M3Ql5p3RnKRTd83ftlkh/s4096/IMG_20240224_215015825.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9qnyAkHu-Yqd_U3chyRx3zdUECnra5Mbj2HRESIOjo_-qyyq6TRRDd_G4PfuwqJ_9SeqiIXFumomHvvrv5BDfO_wlgxD3Drbs4zaqBWEAa1suc_NGbb3cZMLEB91buGn-ufX3CDVkV5UqqHluTw_iV3mlCytlA3WnlyCZOY4M3Ql5p3RnKRTd83ftlkh/s320/IMG_20240224_215015825.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Questionable iconography aside, I was a bit leery of the wooden cutting board that came with it. It seemed like it would not do well with my "shove everything in the dishwasher" approach to kitchen management.
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I was going to cut up the herbs in small batches. Then I decided that the best way to test this thing was to overload it. Realistically, I need to know how well a kitchen device holds up to moderate-to-severe misuse before deciding whether it should permanently move into the kitchen. And so, I crammed all the green stuff into the bowl that came with this thing. It looked unexpectedly photogenic.
</p><p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQoRBd4nxjL3rri_P9EAz4_8LhP6oi_9dlklI_17LbLQotmqpxHl9OGSwYww1X1DHRt_RMSBW8PBC8q-bRatIzWG5Zwsj_z0YtpjqTKERLg7OHq7pbBQFk3PPOXxxs27TMXERLzi8yGosRwnlxUR73Zs1cklosKGQaA9gpZxGscqq081HZrtFOgDDLqG-/s4096/IMG_20240224_215319191.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQoRBd4nxjL3rri_P9EAz4_8LhP6oi_9dlklI_17LbLQotmqpxHl9OGSwYww1X1DHRt_RMSBW8PBC8q-bRatIzWG5Zwsj_z0YtpjqTKERLg7OHq7pbBQFk3PPOXxxs27TMXERLzi8yGosRwnlxUR73Zs1cklosKGQaA9gpZxGscqq081HZrtFOgDDLqG-/s320/IMG_20240224_215319191.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bowl may not appear overloaded, but that's because the knife is weighing the herbs down.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was pleasantly surprised at how well this thing worked. In a surprisingly short time, it reduced all our lovely fresh herbs to green confetti. It was like using a food processor without having to clean all the plastic parts later.So while this isn't something I can't live without, I won't rush to re-gift it either.<br /><p></p><p>
Countertop toys aside, here is where we get to the real fun of the recipe: adding enough garlic to weed out unworthy men. (As I mentioned in an earlier post, I think garlic bread is a relationship test.) You should know two things. One, I put in exactly as much garlic as the
recipe calls for, and no more. Two, I quartered the entire recipe-
garlic included.
My eyes literally watered (that is not a complaint) while I stirred this. <br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP188VS9ji8RpijdXM6aG9C0VIfkltTvC2Jy4goTYDaE0bxHXwjauUDCjMioRkIPNB1EXOz0YNKLJCouTUQl_Od4WAU-QbtLW8JzFnYo6GPdNO0M2h8ZiP1OxGRqG0mXL4C-pcy7_M0GzMOpqanCjsfopv8vxPd2Air1fAr0kOztQQkKNV_LTfc4C9hrY1/s4096/IMG_20240224_220623342.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP188VS9ji8RpijdXM6aG9C0VIfkltTvC2Jy4goTYDaE0bxHXwjauUDCjMioRkIPNB1EXOz0YNKLJCouTUQl_Od4WAU-QbtLW8JzFnYo6GPdNO0M2h8ZiP1OxGRqG0mXL4C-pcy7_M0GzMOpqanCjsfopv8vxPd2Air1fAr0kOztQQkKNV_LTfc4C9hrY1/s320/IMG_20240224_220623342.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The rest of the recipe is agreeably straightforward. We are supposed to melt the butter before we stir it in, which makes sense if you're not quartering the recipe. By the time you've melted an entire Junior League's worth of butter, the garlic already in your pan will have burnt. But after quartering the recipe, I figured this small piece of butter could melt in the pan quickly enough. For those making the recipe in its original amounts, a whole stick of butter may seem excessive and also stereotypically southern. But keep in mind that said butter is going onto an entire pound of spaghetti. (It's still a lot of butter, though.)
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOOXOvswqFmgr_p3AygheWkTCBmmiV0ldP91oLBC8hY2ii7Q_KudtC5uZ0EDRE_nj7hmfCJwbKp0i0klx7ZzSLHYlsp23xxkom_NadLNGh9PoIWgaXotERy48Sjd3LfWsMO4s2BSCHWWV7rSwMt_aSYOiK_KHnMaEIWjy_jpy-CdGQFNxKkNXDKaUwZhs/s4096/IMG_20240224_220720932.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOOXOvswqFmgr_p3AygheWkTCBmmiV0ldP91oLBC8hY2ii7Q_KudtC5uZ0EDRE_nj7hmfCJwbKp0i0klx7ZzSLHYlsp23xxkom_NadLNGh9PoIWgaXotERy48Sjd3LfWsMO4s2BSCHWWV7rSwMt_aSYOiK_KHnMaEIWjy_jpy-CdGQFNxKkNXDKaUwZhs/s320/IMG_20240224_220720932.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Lastly, we add in the herbs. I noted that the recipe has you adding them at the absolute very end of the recipe. I guess our greens would go black and slimy if they cooked in the butter for more than a few seconds. The main thing to note is that ever since weed got upscaled to cannabis, I can never look at a pan of green stuff in oil the same again.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjIQJRDkaU5CYU0AKI_vpKAWuCgGgZY9EOEXBsEyn2zButHqZ0LT458HaHi0_VnleFjQVh3JLHoIGKVEBpZz6SHewoIdyaij5DABasGjOmKzvezIp0aKdTbfp1nYR2H3VU0dLQ6YkTn1ouuEUxs7FSK7XIhYEiULOUdkLKAgOAPj6tntr4gBuutl4qHMP/s4096/IMG_20240224_220905899.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjIQJRDkaU5CYU0AKI_vpKAWuCgGgZY9EOEXBsEyn2zButHqZ0LT458HaHi0_VnleFjQVh3JLHoIGKVEBpZz6SHewoIdyaij5DABasGjOmKzvezIp0aKdTbfp1nYR2H3VU0dLQ6YkTn1ouuEUxs7FSK7XIhYEiULOUdkLKAgOAPj6tntr4gBuutl4qHMP/s320/IMG_20240224_220905899.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Our herbs shrank a lot in their short time in a hot pan. I wasn't expecting them to be reduced to such a small pile on top of the noodles.
<p></p><p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwSDz0lgGUXF6ONF-LYl5xzi2ZHZAfNIQDAIC5r0Qt7mMyl8ADkH0NdZdSe1gI999buoFBoMWXX5nHqZ2ceZP9MNfsKOtC1GKv4ij_X-O8S6I11lxMOLsj7a_nDfbsiZFwKJZeIK3Bwp0rlN5sShJFdgTEUt9AzhEbmI7wgQgDqb9HDsFCDiz5oXi0FC7/s4096/IMG_20240224_222138852.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwSDz0lgGUXF6ONF-LYl5xzi2ZHZAfNIQDAIC5r0Qt7mMyl8ADkH0NdZdSe1gI999buoFBoMWXX5nHqZ2ceZP9MNfsKOtC1GKv4ij_X-O8S6I11lxMOLsj7a_nDfbsiZFwKJZeIK3Bwp0rlN5sShJFdgTEUt9AzhEbmI7wgQgDqb9HDsFCDiz5oXi0FC7/s320/IMG_20240224_222138852.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reminder: this green pile started out as enough herbs to fill a medium-sized salad bowl.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />After stirring our herbed spaghetti together, it looked like I thought it would when I first decided to make it. It also smelled every bit as wonderful as I hoped.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAKVnYexvpG9dFFL8ZqDh9pLGMITzhwXdbG3weTo3yXJnrN8XsuHRoAA_dAl_9k5LhgzBzT5QuTtspmam_tHP9riInFwDrTcs9EqItkmL04KhrITxKFPQ8bm_OkJDVMhaOfFCXckAYhobM64m1wj64KeNu4CJ1vW_gC8xeIZCXIvdOslIEHVT2aAxDi3b/s4096/IMG_20240224_222439557.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAKVnYexvpG9dFFL8ZqDh9pLGMITzhwXdbG3weTo3yXJnrN8XsuHRoAA_dAl_9k5LhgzBzT5QuTtspmam_tHP9riInFwDrTcs9EqItkmL04KhrITxKFPQ8bm_OkJDVMhaOfFCXckAYhobM64m1wj64KeNu4CJ1vW_gC8xeIZCXIvdOslIEHVT2aAxDi3b/s320/IMG_20240224_222439557.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I wasn't expecting to like dill in this, but I put it in anyways because someone (again, the recipe has no one's name under it) thought it was good enough to add here. Also, I've only ever encountered dill in pickles, and was curious to see what happens when dill gets separated from cucumbers. It was really good here, and I would definitely add it when making this again.
<p></p><p>In short, this recipe is as good as it is simple. It's one of those recipes that seems too easy to bother writing down, just like few people need to consult instructions when making cinnamon toast. But I hadn't thought of making spaghetti with fresh dill and would never have done it had I not seen this written down. </p><p>
Since I had a lot of extra dill and parsley in the refrigerator, I made herbed spaghetti again as soon as the garlic smell from the last batch got out of the house-- which took an unexpectedly long time. A house is never drafty when you need it to be. </p><p>I couldn't help thinking that the recipe would be fantastic with few mushrooms in it. Because it's almost impossible to stir large things like sliced mushrooms into spaghetti (they always separate out and end up in a pile at the bottom of the pot), I used pasta shells instead. That way, everything would mix together.
</p><p>
And so, after the garlic had become a golden brown but before adding the herbs, we filled the frying pan with fungus. This led to a problem I should have seen coming: the mushrooms exuded a lot of juice. I didn't want to drain it off and throw it out (in part because I'd be pouring away the precious roasted garlic with the mushroom fluid). But I didn't want a puddle of mushroom-water at the bottom of an otherwise exquisite plate of pasta. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheq8nIZ6wDcESzfHf685peGjXpQ-vL2y1psBVs3_cLOBd8_ULPDr0UZmpVm_Sy6XlAEPAKO5qOIpPBF3meQ3Dwr7t2FYTQpbrjUTnW0gFL5TKCwINenSgxuBflforKoSQl_AQWcRoyVfv9hBGxZnmVTBEz3hVYNyzys7Y6QtIUoikc08Q2B74z_Qt9mjnG/s4096/IMG_20240226_215620015.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheq8nIZ6wDcESzfHf685peGjXpQ-vL2y1psBVs3_cLOBd8_ULPDr0UZmpVm_Sy6XlAEPAKO5qOIpPBF3meQ3Dwr7t2FYTQpbrjUTnW0gFL5TKCwINenSgxuBflforKoSQl_AQWcRoyVfv9hBGxZnmVTBEz3hVYNyzys7Y6QtIUoikc08Q2B74z_Qt9mjnG/s320/IMG_20240226_215620015.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And so, muttering to myself that no Italians were watching anyway, I stirred in enough flour to turn our mushroom water into a sauce that would stick to the noodles. I should note that the mushroom gravy tasted even better than I anticipated because it drew out the flavor of the garlic the entire time the mushrooms cooked. I hadn't even added our herbs yet, and this was already turning into something divine. The rest of the recipe was just as easy as last time: dump the herbs into the pan, pour everything onto the noodles, and serve. <p></p><p>It's the best pasta I've had in ages. I cannot recommend it enough. Obviously, the herbs are open to variation. But I strongly suggest trying fresh dill among the greens you choose. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioRCNm571reGeG5_JQnKjLaZV1aqwcGJGmrkqQqDr6t5TkZXdx9p_JeTm-1rzyfVFQKE0fJlf6YS4Pgaa9f-BvMASqieWTnSuZNb0Oo34hfteQDKHUQjKCtgPQk7ScFidqSkp6yMvnO8IhasR6he4zN0cs3OS-wtNh6TIP3-0iUXrqkoIHGxQdb2J_tU1e/s4096/IMG_20240226_221044551.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioRCNm571reGeG5_JQnKjLaZV1aqwcGJGmrkqQqDr6t5TkZXdx9p_JeTm-1rzyfVFQKE0fJlf6YS4Pgaa9f-BvMASqieWTnSuZNb0Oo34hfteQDKHUQjKCtgPQk7ScFidqSkp6yMvnO8IhasR6he4zN0cs3OS-wtNh6TIP3-0iUXrqkoIHGxQdb2J_tU1e/s320/IMG_20240226_221044551.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-54117587066200043602024-02-16T01:02:00.000-08:002024-02-17T00:14:00.466-08:00Aunt Angie's Unrivaled Pizzelles<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCmDQrQbDnDDAXGqkd4pPwrP3W2ZPWrNYlUjayn04JtFPhE8bHZ605JcBuH-usUV8QcCLZyHzomiLKJkn1bWojCXufFu2hpg-NsGgh-wzfdoVTgALx0IzjDdbooJxsh4oWPyKQzG6FAvGpcdfJZlfkbV20yDlM9tMzWE17USEUdxjJV3Klh9LhLUvbuVO/s4096/IMG_20240110_004535026.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p></p><table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Aunt Angie's Pizzelles</b><br /><!--Aunt Angie-->
3 eggs<br />
2 tsp vanilla<br />
½ tsp anise extract<br />
¾ cup sugar<br />
¾ cup butter or margarine, melted and cooled*<br />
2 cups flour<br />
2 tsp baking powder<br />
<br />
Sift flour and baking powder together, set aside. <br />Beat eggs and flavorings until foamy. Gradually add sugar, beating the whole time. Beat until very light. Slowly pour in the melted butter, beating the whole time. Stir in the flour just until mixed- do not overbeat.<br />
Spoon batter into middle of the a hot pizzelle iron brushed with melted shortening. Use a knife to push batter off of the spoon. Bake until the steam stops coming out, about 60 seconds. Remove with a spatula.<sup>†</sup><br />
<br />
*Add ¼ tsp of salt if butter is unsalted.<br />
<sup>†</sup>The original recipe says to remove with a fork, but that did not end well for me.
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>
Let's say you just bought a pizzelle iron but you have no idea how to make them. And let's further say it's the 1970s, which means you can't go online and find a recipe. And unlike us here at A Book of Cookrye, you didn't run off with your Italian ex's family's recipes. Fortunately for you, your new pizzelle iron has a recipe on a sticker applied to its handle.</p>
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfk137TuwA9PFbWYm8FU8nQSIi2ERxUeRnbY2V37B9ujWDDGCCHnB2z5O3IhCAaUEn-R-KDBmtPL3dS5IN7SJ1_SpPW0Bw1Bt-DhGHKEvR-img7Xjlo4Zu5wk0hr0KYnGocbx06GDjx14a0j1CgfvQNTTT4tW-aH48Jm1aEO5Qmi9T1JbiUrQWUgqFJDY/s960/s-l960.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfk137TuwA9PFbWYm8FU8nQSIi2ERxUeRnbY2V37B9ujWDDGCCHnB2z5O3IhCAaUEn-R-KDBmtPL3dS5IN7SJ1_SpPW0Bw1Bt-DhGHKEvR-img7Xjlo4Zu5wk0hr0KYnGocbx06GDjx14a0j1CgfvQNTTT4tW-aH48Jm1aEO5Qmi9T1JbiUrQWUgqFJDY/s320/s-l960.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>A pizzelle iron with a recipe on its handle recently popped up in my Ebay suggestions. You may think I'm about to show a picture of this iron on my countertop and admit that I bought it, but I am financially immune to the allure of future waffle irons. However, before the iron went to a more willing buyer, I nabbed the recipe off the listing because you just never see appliances that have their own recipes stuck onto them.<br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQmzPFzeYn6Yop-qFnMlTegUWyaERNJ0HWkZHUTtdwWljTOOedrcQbR09qPGZdhqgAzbwQDdvS6XAYXn7lXemKuYsHQec70TjhCN1lfCC5S4S0ulL8mmY7MgcXe2sIxwy_QTVxe1Qp77O1NfRudHBL2b31V_7wIln9A3gK2UYfxKvyoeMgz-OTH3_hCsa/s1600/s-l1600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQmzPFzeYn6Yop-qFnMlTegUWyaERNJ0HWkZHUTtdwWljTOOedrcQbR09qPGZdhqgAzbwQDdvS6XAYXn7lXemKuYsHQec70TjhCN1lfCC5S4S0ulL8mmY7MgcXe2sIxwy_QTVxe1Qp77O1NfRudHBL2b31V_7wIln9A3gK2UYfxKvyoeMgz-OTH3_hCsa/s320/s-l1600.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><br />That's a bit hard to read, so let's do a bit of photomanipulative magic to help our eyes.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW1sfJlYxoqUSDf5C0EujtQTW9j6096lTOEUbMS3_wnpLE3arvso0Po3oqaK2ZMv22mVWnAKct9TggFy3zUPe9jZ5d_ohth7Gv2cQU2yltG5mc9yPzUYeiFVJaM1sDMEmST9fK-cVfI3UtiCUHPwYeJAjf5tL6AjbtSiegS1qmfLdVay0OlSKZQYbl2f_h/s704/delete.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="PIZZELLE RECIPE. 3 eggs, beaten. 3/4 cup sugar. 3/4 cup melted butter. 1-1/2 cups flour. 1 tsp baking powder. 1 tsp anise seed or lemon peel. Add ingredients in order listed, mixing well after each. Spoon batter into middle of each section [of the iron]." border="0" data-original-height="637" data-original-width="704" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW1sfJlYxoqUSDf5C0EujtQTW9j6096lTOEUbMS3_wnpLE3arvso0Po3oqaK2ZMv22mVWnAKct9TggFy3zUPe9jZ5d_ohth7Gv2cQU2yltG5mc9yPzUYeiFVJaM1sDMEmST9fK-cVfI3UtiCUHPwYeJAjf5tL6AjbtSiegS1qmfLdVay0OlSKZQYbl2f_h/w320-h290/delete.JPG" title="PIZZELLE RECIPE. 3 eggs, beaten. 3/4 cup sugar. 3/4 cup melted butter. 1-1/2 cups flour. 1 tsp baking powder. 1 tsp anise seed or lemon peel. Add ingredients in order listed, mixing well after each. Spoon batter into middle of each section [of the iron]." width="320" /></a></div><br />I had to try it. Practically every kitchen device in existence comes with suggested recipes in the instruction manual, but I've never seen one printed on a sticker and applied to the thing itself. The closest equivalent I can think of are those cute ceramic pie pans and casseroles with recipes painted in the middle. I had to see if Rival's pizzelles were any good.
<p></p><p></p><p>
While we're making this recipe, it was a perfect time to try a near-identical one from my ex's family.
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyS-BGLnAj_hhRYPJgmii-d5ncPc4CeZkCDhQVzp6JYgJYtAi47zbAk0dTfT2wWJ8kRybjSLjWh_p1oKIFiFRi8dSDRwyFfHjOXEv-F9lpnDDFs7tbeoMtuEWeZt3mKfkhxRJOAZDbXUGMfx0gQq0xpW9hUm4sFvSSy_ZPtYkCl5sWn8h_yaNQTT-zgey/s1152/Aunt%20Angie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="691" data-original-width="1152" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyS-BGLnAj_hhRYPJgmii-d5ncPc4CeZkCDhQVzp6JYgJYtAi47zbAk0dTfT2wWJ8kRybjSLjWh_p1oKIFiFRi8dSDRwyFfHjOXEv-F9lpnDDFs7tbeoMtuEWeZt3mKfkhxRJOAZDbXUGMfx0gQq0xpW9hUm4sFvSSy_ZPtYkCl5sWn8h_yaNQTT-zgey/s320/Aunt%20Angie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>
I don't know who Aunt Angie is. I never met anyone named Angie when I was introduced to the family. But her recipe is the same as the one off the Rival handle except she used a smidge more flour and an extra spoon of baking powder. I wonder if she happened to buy the same pizzelle iron and then improved the recipe a bit.
</p><p>
We began the pizzelle recipe as they seem to always go: whipping our eggs and sugar until they look like an unusually fluffy batter. When we slowly poured in the melted butter, things started to look a bit curdled under the beaters. I have not seen this in any pizzelle recipe I've made heretofore (granted, I've only made two).
</p><p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KFBid6ep_A0UzwfSEJwP66CwFtcvc6kFMpOoSi5BOpSv1baQHDISiXY4bJeM7cW7xs7QZIwYY_gZZtv_uNchTmJ_8Hr8BsxLGgC8L8n4J684a2WfN9ThXp_rd07ZdM3hFNEu8tJRioxAmlfLCzL9Ldba02gB9NVmSR1K4TVObWikEvKoct-hRLZTtHGS/s4096/IMG_20240109_235154137.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KFBid6ep_A0UzwfSEJwP66CwFtcvc6kFMpOoSi5BOpSv1baQHDISiXY4bJeM7cW7xs7QZIwYY_gZZtv_uNchTmJ_8Hr8BsxLGgC8L8n4J684a2WfN9ThXp_rd07ZdM3hFNEu8tJRioxAmlfLCzL9Ldba02gB9NVmSR1K4TVObWikEvKoct-hRLZTtHGS/s320/IMG_20240109_235154137.jpg" width="320" /></a> </p><p>Upon raising the beaters, we found a surprisingly good facsimile of icing. It may be a little bit curdled, but doesn't it almost look like you could squirt big blobs of it onto cupcakes?
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaL88tiY1vkun_NpkQXMDTl7BZsC1VHAjniMVAin_oONbCX8O0Gj_47XhOUAeP3ZJ9a8eLqMGV6-P4dRa06GPU56O-FOFayyCrFgDzeyLYqWkSZTOaReiHUaCOy2K1CFfdWZR0j710snvCIaGJkgHFqWp1mVcz_t02OUDLZbDLW9LBR_79tiMrP5W_Vvai/s4096/IMG_20240109_235538104.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaL88tiY1vkun_NpkQXMDTl7BZsC1VHAjniMVAin_oONbCX8O0Gj_47XhOUAeP3ZJ9a8eLqMGV6-P4dRa06GPU56O-FOFayyCrFgDzeyLYqWkSZTOaReiHUaCOy2K1CFfdWZR0j710snvCIaGJkgHFqWp1mVcz_t02OUDLZbDLW9LBR_79tiMrP5W_Vvai/s320/IMG_20240109_235538104.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At this point, we get to the only place where Rival and Aunt Angie diverge: Aunt Angie uses a smidge more flour and baking powder than Rival does. And so, because I am thorough, our batter got bifurcated and some surprisingly mathematical things ensued.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkU3VAlOE9Zpn5kY_24Ky4ObbkiA-T72dC5snRJo4D2mFotEaURSitvv9z19zoqqcqIsFzAfPAwFF08H6OuK_VzlIg-goByQuMIseZBX7FtMRic6XmL11r9vP7oz30Pvu0xNWCPacRAiAD194cmqQReMef9wJQ5KYF8PuVHFBICw5QcmfDPpTY1MQYzAHp/s4096/IMG_20240109_235730722.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkU3VAlOE9Zpn5kY_24Ky4ObbkiA-T72dC5snRJo4D2mFotEaURSitvv9z19zoqqcqIsFzAfPAwFF08H6OuK_VzlIg-goByQuMIseZBX7FtMRic6XmL11r9vP7oz30Pvu0xNWCPacRAiAD194cmqQReMef9wJQ5KYF8PuVHFBICw5QcmfDPpTY1MQYzAHp/s320/IMG_20240109_235730722.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Here are the two recipes in their complete, ready-to-bake state. They look nearly identical in pictures. But if you prodded them with a spoon, Aunt Angie's was just a little bit firmer while the one that came off the Rival pizzelle maker was floppier.
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</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIhQ9KQTQ6LVnvE_EnVK9QsBgjToUdq5i9S6O6F3EgbGNlUzFuAsOuK07HfxJEECuIhI3p6V4f7yEg65dpsUnx8mBqbg9mSnxbCImWmPAj5OPkJ605vwIP4TwEvLqxqU_c41-cQFCdHxS6bxV-6C97I3LcWOIkifHFpHwmZGidA4LYbQBxVF3hhU7EEaS/s4096/IMG_20240109_235942402.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIhQ9KQTQ6LVnvE_EnVK9QsBgjToUdq5i9S6O6F3EgbGNlUzFuAsOuK07HfxJEECuIhI3p6V4f7yEg65dpsUnx8mBqbg9mSnxbCImWmPAj5OPkJ605vwIP4TwEvLqxqU_c41-cQFCdHxS6bxV-6C97I3LcWOIkifHFpHwmZGidA4LYbQBxVF3hhU7EEaS/s320/IMG_20240109_235942402.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rival's on the left, Aunt Angie's on the right.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>And so, having gotten the iron heated up, the paper splatter-catcher laid on the counter, and the shortening melted and ready to brush, it was time to cook the Rival recipe. I'm not a pizzelle expert (I only started making them two months ago), but this dough seemed a lot runnier than any pizzelle I've made heretofore.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinh36O8pkQLOhyWiNGTNNdWLHz6FVLxDtEq465ZtdO4j1sLHaGgweWSxxda89sBAd-2GPxPgB_aWiVTZbESi1WE3zbr7TrDZrq9VaAS7u0d82lrEC53FjHisegiZ7twepDXqd6FvZZLeF82HgjHdrRSYWusNoFfty0tHV6WzAP01LFD_t2hfcvThlptTW6/s4096/IMG_20240110_000649366.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinh36O8pkQLOhyWiNGTNNdWLHz6FVLxDtEq465ZtdO4j1sLHaGgweWSxxda89sBAd-2GPxPgB_aWiVTZbESi1WE3zbr7TrDZrq9VaAS7u0d82lrEC53FjHisegiZ7twepDXqd6FvZZLeF82HgjHdrRSYWusNoFfty0tHV6WzAP01LFD_t2hfcvThlptTW6/s320/IMG_20240110_000649366.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>
Rival's pizzelles cooked faster than the other recipes I've made. I think it's because there's so much sugar in them compared to everything else. The sugar browned before I was ready with a spatula. Rival's pizzelles were also a lot more fragile than the others I've made. I accidentally nudged one and it dropped a few shards of itself.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOX4mM2foX2jvY9QZJ7MT8NnW5VbZ3vVWakbzY0bcYJ3RCE_uAfp-NwIpxtG-1Gr99gER7spqXKYQqnr8nkwEFq6uWryJuo3AZPtaXNeICIDCIbyzwwb459VGoQLP1PwI9mYwkViSKGQQdXoJXLOoblGNrcruEb7IKS_-3UCO2PQvjaftKgJTduvdM0hP/s4096/IMG_20240110_001030291.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOX4mM2foX2jvY9QZJ7MT8NnW5VbZ3vVWakbzY0bcYJ3RCE_uAfp-NwIpxtG-1Gr99gER7spqXKYQqnr8nkwEFq6uWryJuo3AZPtaXNeICIDCIbyzwwb459VGoQLP1PwI9mYwkViSKGQQdXoJXLOoblGNrcruEb7IKS_-3UCO2PQvjaftKgJTduvdM0hP/s320/IMG_20240110_001030291.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The Rival pizzelles weren't necessarily bad, but I was not impressed. They were a little too greasy from an excess of butter. This culinary misfire made me feel a bit of sympathy for anyone who bought a Rival pizzelle iron and made the recipe printed on it, year in and year out. Think of all those years of subprime pizzelles!
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I thought the recipe needed just a little bit more flour to be just right. And conveniently enough, we had another bowl of batter that had a little more flour in it. It was Aunt Angie's turn at the iron. While we're making these, I have to point out that after getting helpful advice from Fante's Kitchen Shop in Philadelphia, I switched from cooking spray to melted shortening and a brush. I have to repeat how astounded I am at what <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2024/01/fantes-pizzelles-or-recipes-keep.html#shortening" target="_blank">my chemist friend described as</a> shortening's "uncanny nonstick properties more comparable to Teflon than a natural
oil." This thin, wispy thing (and every single one like it) fell right out of the shortening-coated iron intact.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcNMydqjFXdkS9B9rpAFpuUdcVNIkh5vF6BEtJwrATfcH8Qr3ewhk8E8tGuJnTauH7kMO6RGDscgj076lq5w5pxl9u-Dz0EUKUGQNGp_kul5JICT3x46WNFn6RJmpQmJEKlMDn4jLHxgfEtmYEIHqVngUC8LMi4X6voZ7CnYf9GhK5diqSZYfCiTHYT6K/s4096/IMG_20240110_003651963_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcNMydqjFXdkS9B9rpAFpuUdcVNIkh5vF6BEtJwrATfcH8Qr3ewhk8E8tGuJnTauH7kMO6RGDscgj076lq5w5pxl9u-Dz0EUKUGQNGp_kul5JICT3x46WNFn6RJmpQmJEKlMDn4jLHxgfEtmYEIHqVngUC8LMi4X6voZ7CnYf9GhK5diqSZYfCiTHYT6K/s320/IMG_20240110_003651963_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Moving back to the pizzelles, Aunt Angie's recipe is what Rival's wishes it could be. Here are the two side-by-side. You can see that Rival's recipe was just a little bit more perforated and not quite as nice. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdC2gpZ56QsnW8-ztkTaxBxou9aaNOsksAL6fi6eDhk5NvM0VFCERYz3JyBYFnNQJdxp1GC4iR2Rh-QWPCvcFJTUDz1lTQQictKqBxbGUSsTIEvqkMiWNDruAWpU8Hb-NYDaC4IrUlS6LSHjiiNwl76i9hFXHRUZvl_xWN48tcXIjkOFKOgm2vIXKzUUTv/s4096/IMG_20240110_003546531.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdC2gpZ56QsnW8-ztkTaxBxou9aaNOsksAL6fi6eDhk5NvM0VFCERYz3JyBYFnNQJdxp1GC4iR2Rh-QWPCvcFJTUDz1lTQQictKqBxbGUSsTIEvqkMiWNDruAWpU8Hb-NYDaC4IrUlS6LSHjiiNwl76i9hFXHRUZvl_xWN48tcXIjkOFKOgm2vIXKzUUTv/s320/IMG_20240110_003546531.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Aunt Angie's recipe may be a near-exact copy of the one from Rival, but it had just enough additional flour to make the pizzelles near-perfect. Her recipe comes out just as I imagined pizzelles were like before I actually had one. They are light, crisp, and ever-so-delicate. I'm not sure how I could pack these to give them away unbroken, but I know that anyone I gave them to would eat them almost as fast as I would. <p></p><p>I don't necessarily recommend this as someone's first pizzelle recipe, but I definitely recommend making it. Because they're so delicate, they get bit tricky to lift them off of the iron. But that same fragility makes them so good to eat. They're like those impossibly fragile cookies you get at supermarkets with very upscale snack aisles. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCmDQrQbDnDDAXGqkd4pPwrP3W2ZPWrNYlUjayn04JtFPhE8bHZ605JcBuH-usUV8QcCLZyHzomiLKJkn1bWojCXufFu2hpg-NsGgh-wzfdoVTgALx0IzjDdbooJxsh4oWPyKQzG6FAvGpcdfJZlfkbV20yDlM9tMzWE17USEUdxjJV3Klh9LhLUvbuVO/s4096/IMG_20240110_004535026.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCmDQrQbDnDDAXGqkd4pPwrP3W2ZPWrNYlUjayn04JtFPhE8bHZ605JcBuH-usUV8QcCLZyHzomiLKJkn1bWojCXufFu2hpg-NsGgh-wzfdoVTgALx0IzjDdbooJxsh4oWPyKQzG6FAvGpcdfJZlfkbV20yDlM9tMzWE17USEUdxjJV3Klh9LhLUvbuVO/s320/IMG_20240110_004535026.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>
<!--I have to add an amusing postscript. By chance I happened to find someone selling the same pizzelle iron as the one in my ex's grandmother's basement, still in the original box with the instructions. (When your antique was mass-produced in its day, this is not a surprise.) I didn't purchase it, but I noted that the suggested recipe on the back page looked familiar...</p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R5uSwDJ6YSKj4ts-K-xfcAwgA-P4XH1_cwNL_C4zMb7yyzdu6eBTBLgVH4sISdxt3jv9izCn_7YFYH9A3MwtNH2EOQhwajb5rWi0JGeoYzoOKc3Mb0yboEaaqsKmk-J89tQVGBTeFYKIlZvWMjQW8sivvgC_Wuoj9oXAg7qm3dVaFw4I3pi4sXEsF68s/s3022/s-l16005%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2131" data-original-width="3022" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R5uSwDJ6YSKj4ts-K-xfcAwgA-P4XH1_cwNL_C4zMb7yyzdu6eBTBLgVH4sISdxt3jv9izCn_7YFYH9A3MwtNH2EOQhwajb5rWi0JGeoYzoOKc3Mb0yboEaaqsKmk-J89tQVGBTeFYKIlZvWMjQW8sivvgC_Wuoj9oXAg7qm3dVaFw4I3pi4sXEsF68s/s320/s-l16005%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look carefully, the pizzelle iron from her basement may be seen on the bottom left corner of the page.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>
That's right, his grandmother wrote down the recipe that came in the box with her pizzelle iron. (We note that the original recipe uses shortening where she uses margarine, which added a bit of flavor where the shortening added none.) And while it probably wasn't the only pizzelle recipe she ever made, the spatters on her recipe card show that she definitely made them a lot.
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Of course, finding out that your family traditions came from a now-ancient food label <a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/secret-family-recipes-copied" target="_blank">is nothing new</a>. My <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2020/02/that-fantastic-fudge.html" target="_blank">great-grandmother's fudge</a> came off the back of a marshmallow creme jar. I was amused to find out the recipe's origin even though I wasn't even looking for it.
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This seems like the perfect place to conclude our pizzelle recipe journey. We have come right back to where we started, and it turns out that without knowing it, we started out with the recipe that came in the box with our first pizzelle iron.
</p><p>
I actually recommend making these. They're about as easy to make as waffles (assuming you bought an electric pizzelle iron), and they look so pretty. And the recipes scale down relatively well, so you can make "just a few" for yourself and whoever else is at home. Granted, I am perhaps a bit biased because I think waffle irons are fun for the whole family. But nevertheless, pizzelles are delicious.-->S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-81901824989789947892024-01-18T00:43:00.000-08:002024-02-15T04:08:46.432-08:00La Gougère: or, The high class cheese pouf!<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MgiX7hGWeHzXE6cA_13LkoTvW3iwFh2KstspF9qG4x-z2UHlvChxQxBT0ubKLnVKUiTk5dtMc_3-47g4Bcbx2Nf91WZ1Hj8Q2dt1zDSUYLg5oPXapM_hdD8pdoN7698u3r4bot_JfD73zDU36FEW62YgPkZDvaW1sLPrhAokUKbqPYNFS5hsshwy0Hwf/s4096/IMG_20240114_235837736.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>I've been holding onto this recipe and waiting for winter.</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>French Yorkshire Pudding</b><i> or </i><b>La Gougère Bourguignonne</b><br />
4⅜ fluid ounces milk (½ cup plus 2¼ tsp)<br />
1 oz butter (2 tbsp)<br />
2 eggs<br />
¾ teaspoon salt,<br />
2½ oz flour (½ cup plus 2 tbsp)<br />
2 eggs<br />
1½ oz diced Gruyere or Emmenthal, divided into 1 and ½ oz<br />
½ oz grated Gruyere or Emmenthal<br />
<br />
Before beginning, crack one of the eggs into a small bowl. Then beat it, and set aside a small spoonful to brush onto the top.<br />
Select a small saucepan that can handle using an electric mixer in it. (You can beat this by hand with a whisk, but if you use a mixer you'll be glad.)<br />
Put milk, butter and salt in the saucepan. Heat slowly until butter melts and the milk boils. Toss in flour all at once. Allow to boil for a few seconds until the milk begins to bubble over the flour. <br />
Turn off heat, insert an electric handmixer, and beat on high speed until smooth. Add the eggs one at a time, beating each time until mixture is smooth. Stir in 1 oz diced cheese. Spread mixture into buttered shallow cooking dish (mine was about 5" x 7"). Brush with the reserved spoonful of beaten egg, then sprinkle on remaining diced and grated cheese.<br />
Set aside until it gets <i>completely</i> cold (you can refrigerate it to speed this up).<br />
When ready to bake, heat oven to gas mark 8, 450°F, or 230°C. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the top is a deep golden brown.<br />
Allow to cool for a few minutes, and serve warm.<br />Leftovers can be placed on an uncovered pan and reheated at 350°F (180°C, or gas mark 4).<br />
<br />
<i>Note:</i> You can assemble this ahead of time and put it in the refrigerator until ready to bake. If wrapped airtight, it should keep for at least a day before baking. There's no need to bring it back to room temperature. Just take it directly from the refrigerator to the oven.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Source:</i> Fanny Cradock via <a href="https://keepcalmandfannyon.blogspot.com/p/recipes.html" target="_blank">Keep Calm and Fanny On</a></span></div>
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>
When not wrapped in blankets and looking like an ambulatory fabric bale in the house, we at A Book of Cookrye have been recreationally baking. When it was merely freezing, we lit the stove burner and made pizzelles. When the daytime temperature dipped to 12 degrees (that's -11° for our Celsius friends), it was the perfect time to bake in a ridiculously hot oven.
</p><p>
It turns out that this recipe is easy to shop for. There aren't a lot of ingredients, and most of them are cheese.</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyGbDaRqdeQjAb2OUzuVH830JF85B5Qj2pkzrtIhb5V5OPhHTJemeu4V8HCWD0Y1pk41PM21cLucaT-L2UJq3tIPZsJhgqkQruPeqYYrnfbeSXatMJntUBnWI0C8Y8sY7cWH4saUwRC4qGAfgStZUKy2rAdFl4uY7q350KEHMBeVi1mdTPhS2U81XnLCtT/s4096/IMG_20240114_230128316.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyGbDaRqdeQjAb2OUzuVH830JF85B5Qj2pkzrtIhb5V5OPhHTJemeu4V8HCWD0Y1pk41PM21cLucaT-L2UJq3tIPZsJhgqkQruPeqYYrnfbeSXatMJntUBnWI0C8Y8sY7cWH4saUwRC4qGAfgStZUKy2rAdFl4uY7q350KEHMBeVi1mdTPhS2U81XnLCtT/s320/IMG_20240114_230128316.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I first saw this recipe on a TV show about the history of TV cooking. One episode focused on Fanny Cradock and Graham Kerr (aka The Galloping Gourmet). I skipped through all the non-Fanny parts. </p><p>Fanny Cradock got very mixed reviews when they asked other chefs to talk about her. One person said that her cooking style was outdated although "in terms of cooking she was on the money." He <a href="https://youtu.be/SksGTMnPjH8?si=lsm8kf8PgSmMQlJ9&t=308" target="_blank">gave this recipe a special mention</a> and said he still makes it. This was immediately followed by a demonstration. </p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6_CcMFl9MzAjz7AT_TrX4x1iAgNWXQI8Wonn9hGfFz9Oq4ICYJMTak4LiCrenOg_OT9FHhtYwCGmWFwCGh76rofczaDf3sQkg8Tr1jRS7k7nGELiuigRX-K7872DDYb-pA7_5pPF5zDslGDEMK3PB8KelWuul9Wvm1ref8d2rhCzqgpo3lwfSutgY9QHx/s4096/IMG_20240114_230422683.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6_CcMFl9MzAjz7AT_TrX4x1iAgNWXQI8Wonn9hGfFz9Oq4ICYJMTak4LiCrenOg_OT9FHhtYwCGmWFwCGh76rofczaDf3sQkg8Tr1jRS7k7nGELiuigRX-K7872DDYb-pA7_5pPF5zDslGDEMK3PB8KelWuul9Wvm1ref8d2rhCzqgpo3lwfSutgY9QHx/s320/IMG_20240114_230422683.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />For some reason, they didn't give any ingredient amounts or oven temperatures, but I found the directions on the utterly delightful <a href="https://keepcalmandfannyon.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Keep Calm and Fanny On</a>. At first I didn't read the instructions very closely and therefore didn't know what I was getting into. It turns out that we're basically making choux paste with cheese. I was not daunted by choux paste. If you watch <a href="https://youtu.be/du3sM6bBlQo?si=FxOB7KdTaACyjl1_" target="_blank">Fanny Cradock make it</a>, choux paste is so easy you wonder why people reserve it for fancy foods.</p><p>As aforesaid, I didn't closely examine the recipe when I first decided
to make it. It turns out that
whatever a gougère is, we're not making very much of it. The beginning of our recipe barely covered the bottom of the smallest pot
in the kitchen.<br /></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEx5unrTkBv3jQUZQ6Rgk_ifeVQgaI1SfRpKDb7DiyZvGJ-diXstYdhXown-xNBzNPQc6QLA5vEElzFQwwqk-yOobvPYRPSasQZJOrJiMxdzAFwDN2wqRgfxSFKwhfD5VoLwu6SWNGZpBAT4tXEC9ZRQ9NKUrGfMcIxrvXInk56A5PrquyOVfc3UVS9SL/s4096/IMG_20240114_230640990.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEx5unrTkBv3jQUZQ6Rgk_ifeVQgaI1SfRpKDb7DiyZvGJ-diXstYdhXown-xNBzNPQc6QLA5vEElzFQwwqk-yOobvPYRPSasQZJOrJiMxdzAFwDN2wqRgfxSFKwhfD5VoLwu6SWNGZpBAT4tXEC9ZRQ9NKUrGfMcIxrvXInk56A5PrquyOVfc3UVS9SL/s320/IMG_20240114_230640990.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Although choux paste is easy to make, you want to have everything measured and ready before you start. With some things, it's no bother to pause every so often and measure out the next ingredient. But with choux paste, you need everything ready to dump into the pot when its time comes. Perhaps I was a bit excessive to pre-crack my eggs into individual bowls, but that's because I always end up fishing out eggshell fragments. (Also, sometimes I am a bit too excited about having a dishwasher to put all those tiny bowls into.)
<p></p><p>
Fanny Cradock's original instructions were to toss in the flour all at once and "beat violently." I could have gotten out a whisk, but I was taking full advantage of the power grid's miraculous avoidance of another Texas-sized failure. Even though the trees were crackling with frost and the power could go out at any minute, I let our electric handmixer beat the flour violently for me. </p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOurtjS8GPvjipyg4AaS5gln5nHMVwKV5YHiAjX8iVrCM56EhQp7Kre3MCjLDDOGcysMKd4BMXKnYykxMhOahKw9sze42aIVIV45cTc_P0SPZVl2HZpWMRLnu-NQU491TcmL8ETUtYtqkviwOART8irtYP1vCM5Vy7Ua1a0hBrwe2aFweniNpD_2ffIMt8/s4096/IMG_20240116_000014301.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOurtjS8GPvjipyg4AaS5gln5nHMVwKV5YHiAjX8iVrCM56EhQp7Kre3MCjLDDOGcysMKd4BMXKnYykxMhOahKw9sze42aIVIV45cTc_P0SPZVl2HZpWMRLnu-NQU491TcmL8ETUtYtqkviwOART8irtYP1vCM5Vy7Ua1a0hBrwe2aFweniNpD_2ffIMt8/s320/IMG_20240116_000014301.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This could be the mixer that broke Texas.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />In short order, we were ready to add the first egg. As soon as our mixer resumed its assault on the Texas power grid, the choux paste entered what Fanny Cradock gracelessly calls "the globule stage."
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNHT5XbeUeU58xSyCAHtcqsXyKLCa9BDxdZYmr7EJohjVvLXUipHN2ch3fllQY6GnUZNeFe4LAhGHmUEjdilaWJoDBkbReFDYZMFG-lAuXqYxcAFOf0hRj77rHbrAxG8xGvY8yTJinJu5GCgpPEliOoFyboy_hqL2mmLWuR_MrdWZljQlz1CeM5YSGFMW/s4096/IMG_20240114_230733417.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNHT5XbeUeU58xSyCAHtcqsXyKLCa9BDxdZYmr7EJohjVvLXUipHN2ch3fllQY6GnUZNeFe4LAhGHmUEjdilaWJoDBkbReFDYZMFG-lAuXqYxcAFOf0hRj77rHbrAxG8xGvY8yTJinJu5GCgpPEliOoFyboy_hqL2mmLWuR_MrdWZljQlz1CeM5YSGFMW/s320/IMG_20240114_230733417.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />If you've never made choux paste, I can easily imagine how you might think you failed when it looks like this. But if you keep beating it really hard (or grinding away with the electric mixer), eventually the globules give way to a smooth paste.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQenvirJUaFqNpC5NHD2ImUFsiklfLlTNwYpLpTcpM1LDXVpbZiLIcvocZsqMJvoITj9Nxig8GuYZgtQhPEKEwWx11Hb-b4leMSVkAnW9GT-CxjvX1Nv1BbIk1EYrqRWOCB6qfJ1mbsnbqdaLis8wi_SKdaillJ4uvA_H7zEq2ybG1EyALeU4EVpgb0Tr/s4096/IMG_20240114_230843977.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQenvirJUaFqNpC5NHD2ImUFsiklfLlTNwYpLpTcpM1LDXVpbZiLIcvocZsqMJvoITj9Nxig8GuYZgtQhPEKEwWx11Hb-b4leMSVkAnW9GT-CxjvX1Nv1BbIk1EYrqRWOCB6qfJ1mbsnbqdaLis8wi_SKdaillJ4uvA_H7zEq2ybG1EyALeU4EVpgb0Tr/s320/IMG_20240114_230843977.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Then you add the second egg and it goes back to globules again. But after a long and stubborn beating (or about thirty seconds with an electric mixer), you have what almost looks like somewhat elastic mashed potatoes. Our choux paste was ready to receive the cheese.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgh-wUWlwnJMcZXybJpv1OlEM8YJ-ePgQzFs1L-nuK_8DU3DSCvt9sI0MJMQpWuCHSnOZxWTzNyNWGEYBg8G5EwvnVaBJ5rRvc8dSLg8X6BlK15Y8ccylkDCQHxgl2KfUN9BS_UX1VQEhzOmj2Khy2g6LwGPtC7gpXMH6QtBOfSUjtGt0i9ObUzeYKqLc/s4096/IMG_20240114_230938859.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgh-wUWlwnJMcZXybJpv1OlEM8YJ-ePgQzFs1L-nuK_8DU3DSCvt9sI0MJMQpWuCHSnOZxWTzNyNWGEYBg8G5EwvnVaBJ5rRvc8dSLg8X6BlK15Y8ccylkDCQHxgl2KfUN9BS_UX1VQEhzOmj2Khy2g6LwGPtC7gpXMH6QtBOfSUjtGt0i9ObUzeYKqLc/s320/IMG_20240114_230938859.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Because I didn't know what pan size we would need, I waited until we had our choux paste before getting one out. It turned out that the smallest pan in the kitchen was just a smidge too big. But after lightly spritzing cooking spray onto the top of our cheesy choux, we gently persuaded it to reach the edges of the pan. It later occurred to me that this would probably be really good baked in a (well-greased!) cupcake pan. (Because the oven is hot enough to ignite paper, I would either use foil cupcake liners or none at all.)
<p></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFoD41gIkBdRSZxxnBFZ31DZyoxw2nQAy5yYfC3D1KL9Mf3W5LsQe9tQt8KIzYPtF-fQgfmrMxAyteWMD1PTAR-gx3AKbGxrMpby9V_4sXw3tLtcIYig9D79tXXirY_DxxFHyzD8jOAZ8pFRuEUY6mJ5jleIeqU2rRRnULDzEWsPnSecn_O0ny-cBABzP/s4096/IMG_20240114_231226080.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFoD41gIkBdRSZxxnBFZ31DZyoxw2nQAy5yYfC3D1KL9Mf3W5LsQe9tQt8KIzYPtF-fQgfmrMxAyteWMD1PTAR-gx3AKbGxrMpby9V_4sXw3tLtcIYig9D79tXXirY_DxxFHyzD8jOAZ8pFRuEUY6mJ5jleIeqU2rRRnULDzEWsPnSecn_O0ny-cBABzP/s320/IMG_20240114_231226080.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />In less-than-freezing circumstances, I would have felt singularly stupid
to run the oven to 450° (230° for our Celsius friends) for
something so small. However, I did not feel compelled to halt
production of our cheese pouf as the weather got colder by the minute.<p></p><p>I had been debating what to do about the egg wash that we are directed to put on top. I didn't want to crack open another egg for this and waste most of it (or put the rest of it back in the refrigerator and try not to forget to use it later). But my extravagant use of tiny bowls solved my egg-use problem. Since I did an accidentally terrible job of cracking one of them and broke the yolk, I simply did a deliberately bad job of pouring the egg into our batter. The remaining egg residue was exactly enough for brushing purposes.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_Vw00kguo8dsV5lMQGcuYsev07TfuEOskMng7q0Cx9AsvYKw19-mECwkO-KBRUrAbKxLKcPh0QfKpTK8XiMoUN2nWyx_cFIJKD0WgD5bMh0u2Rm2yNI5PyZjdyjdLYUqjjiqKgrRDW4B-8vhtG1XiLqw1VFT6AcmT5eduJvPaK5fJUkuS07ehILVVUP6/s4096/IMG_20240114_231313833.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_Vw00kguo8dsV5lMQGcuYsev07TfuEOskMng7q0Cx9AsvYKw19-mECwkO-KBRUrAbKxLKcPh0QfKpTK8XiMoUN2nWyx_cFIJKD0WgD5bMh0u2Rm2yNI5PyZjdyjdLYUqjjiqKgrRDW4B-8vhtG1XiLqw1VFT6AcmT5eduJvPaK5fJUkuS07ehILVVUP6/s320/IMG_20240114_231313833.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As a side note, between our recent pizzelle phase and the increased application of various egg washes, the single brush in the kitchen drawer has been used a lot more in the last month than its entire previous year of existence. It's already falling apart. I sometimes have to remove bristles from food before baking, and a few have stayed hidden long enough to get cooked. If I'm feeling extravagant, I may get one of those silicone brushes that you can can drop into the dishwasher.<p></p><p>Molting brushes aside, our cheese pouf was ready to bake in a very short time. The instructions don't mention cooling our still-warm choux paste before baking, but I watched the <a href="https://youtu.be/du3sM6bBlQo?si=FxOB7KdTaACyjl1_" target="_blank">the Fanny Cradock episode about petits fours</a> in which she went into a long rant about how it's absolutely essential to get your choux paste completely cold before you cook it. She says it's "the most important point, the really VITAL point" in making choux paste. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeaSnvqXEL5FkeQ6ShbRzN2h4Irx60lSxbwWhuQUtu21yVyR1_ZfAT8cn2b-IYohyphenhyphenwvEci_8V3XAw-OLYfZiLjaMAlw0uv263qFj3THJiIKD7x1_4kEWKHpWLaH8g52o5oeanZ45CkIA0F6BS5KazbFlh3pBcZ3OhnKsrF6HC2x6nF9u-SND6mYCbBWXP/s4096/IMG_20240114_231504001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeaSnvqXEL5FkeQ6ShbRzN2h4Irx60lSxbwWhuQUtu21yVyR1_ZfAT8cn2b-IYohyphenhyphenwvEci_8V3XAw-OLYfZiLjaMAlw0uv263qFj3THJiIKD7x1_4kEWKHpWLaH8g52o5oeanZ45CkIA0F6BS5KazbFlh3pBcZ3OhnKsrF6HC2x6nF9u-SND6mYCbBWXP/s320/IMG_20240114_231504001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I can also say from experience that if you don't let choux paste get all the way to room temperature (if not colder), it doesn't cook right but instead stays gooey in the middle no matter what you do. I'm going to assume that when Fanny Cradock gave the recipe, she had already introduced us to choux paste in an earlier episode. Therefore, anyone following Fanny Cradock's program (you <i>were</i> following the program and not picking recipes willy-nilly, right?) would know that the choux paste should cool before baking.
<p></p><p>
I should have waited to heat up the oven until the choux paste had gone completely cold. Even after putting it in the coldest part of the refrigerator, it needed 10 minutes before the last of the warmth had gone out. I felt kind of bad about running an empty oven at 450° for so long, but given the cold I didn't turn it off.
</p><p>
Eventually, we put our cheesy choux into the oven, wondering if it would rise at all. It looked so puny in the pan. But before it was halfway done baking, it almost looked like I'd crammed a tiny chicken into a small dish.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBXQlpGKptIq6FAIEwfF5DFEDGChk9xeOzDSk3ySgo80SxrBXSgE1cSZtCjyFZ5fVlzqmrjN1pnccR4gJp4QjX2PyT5Cb4Mr7JmGNRMijpapTt_ERLaUKBrj1nBX8TtVVi0MECHt91AQ0iLcv22QPALtlND0pdx9GmYcRBMy7HHBYZL3rQF1G2Uhv3qJO/s4096/IMG_20240114_235114356.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBXQlpGKptIq6FAIEwfF5DFEDGChk9xeOzDSk3ySgo80SxrBXSgE1cSZtCjyFZ5fVlzqmrjN1pnccR4gJp4QjX2PyT5Cb4Mr7JmGNRMijpapTt_ERLaUKBrj1nBX8TtVVi0MECHt91AQ0iLcv22QPALtlND0pdx9GmYcRBMy7HHBYZL3rQF1G2Uhv3qJO/s320/IMG_20240114_235114356.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I wasn't prepared for our cheesy pouf to look so good. You'd think I spent hours on it instead of a minute or two with an electric mixer. That beautiful deep golden crust, the gooey puddles of cheese on top, the almost unnatural height to which it rose... I couldn't believe I made this myself.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoOLFszkS1HiWipek8Y_sG85iBqqw0gzBvm2Rm8Tg6viUVERVH1NgL2vTVbEbZByp7DtAOjj-_Rja3QuQcj_cVUQjfQuyF6jJ4bKz58EpdrIN5b_wkZr1ngP5N9vY8WD9kuxOEqYu-4R6ak5cWPhrTcr_Jw9-DhgmKWqMPCeBeDgR_JUYnQy-uXYbneZb/s4096/IMG_20240114_235316692.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoOLFszkS1HiWipek8Y_sG85iBqqw0gzBvm2Rm8Tg6viUVERVH1NgL2vTVbEbZByp7DtAOjj-_Rja3QuQcj_cVUQjfQuyF6jJ4bKz58EpdrIN5b_wkZr1ngP5N9vY8WD9kuxOEqYu-4R6ak5cWPhrTcr_Jw9-DhgmKWqMPCeBeDgR_JUYnQy-uXYbneZb/s320/IMG_20240114_235316692.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I know that the underside of bread is rarely worth noting, but look at that beautiful golden dough interspersed with shiny pieces of toasted-brown cheese. It's like a mosaic of deliciousness.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjONjSTuolV_MvrCpEjFJ0nUdnQ2_vE5MSEPBqqtzZBxL7au7EgedCZVMwFfcZflfFLjBAlJ-Sn7_NS4qbHtlNURnwQhA_KgqxAEtjCtgcRabW-vvdalN585b_GszDipnvqSTNFW815F7JbF07J0_l3wh3pML37qbsEoxgXso_OTf_2fuHDQFDw1fMstxwH/s4096/IMG_20240115_000908148.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjONjSTuolV_MvrCpEjFJ0nUdnQ2_vE5MSEPBqqtzZBxL7au7EgedCZVMwFfcZflfFLjBAlJ-Sn7_NS4qbHtlNURnwQhA_KgqxAEtjCtgcRabW-vvdalN585b_GszDipnvqSTNFW815F7JbF07J0_l3wh3pML37qbsEoxgXso_OTf_2fuHDQFDw1fMstxwH/s320/IMG_20240115_000908148.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Our entire gougère had risen to an impressive height despite the nearly cracker-thin state of the dough before baking. I really wanted to see what happened under that massive off-center mountain that rose out of the pan. It turns out, the entire thing lifted off from the bottom of the pan and made a bread-tent.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVO0bgG16E17vcDpJ0iADPUHYXzrLLlFSLzKTVfOcN7tF9fBtPOG7OXu1AZrCGda-6q-38vvaIc4S3Jz-00nq1JDSFIc6gaoRPhKIOnICkM3V1zpRHc2BoreN06qBdKa3oevDvenkG7iFFDPhhxG5JYDp-ArIm95AEgVy34DQ7HgcYu7Sw5MIn_BJ_CiCK/s4096/IMG_20240114_235434636.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVO0bgG16E17vcDpJ0iADPUHYXzrLLlFSLzKTVfOcN7tF9fBtPOG7OXu1AZrCGda-6q-38vvaIc4S3Jz-00nq1JDSFIc6gaoRPhKIOnICkM3V1zpRHc2BoreN06qBdKa3oevDvenkG7iFFDPhhxG5JYDp-ArIm95AEgVy34DQ7HgcYu7Sw5MIn_BJ_CiCK/s320/IMG_20240114_235434636.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We tasted this and.... it's cheesy bread. It's the best cheesy bread I've ever had. Don't be distracted by the fancy-sounding French name, it's cheesy bread and it's also really easy to make. With that said, I want to branch out with future cheese selections. Some quick internet searching tells me that gruyère is the customary cheese (or as food snobs say, "the classic preparation"), but I want to try this with provolone or really sharp Cheddar. <p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MgiX7hGWeHzXE6cA_13LkoTvW3iwFh2KstspF9qG4x-z2UHlvChxQxBT0ubKLnVKUiTk5dtMc_3-47g4Bcbx2Nf91WZ1Hj8Q2dt1zDSUYLg5oPXapM_hdD8pdoN7698u3r4bot_JfD73zDU36FEW62YgPkZDvaW1sLPrhAokUKbqPYNFS5hsshwy0Hwf/s4096/IMG_20240114_235837736.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MgiX7hGWeHzXE6cA_13LkoTvW3iwFh2KstspF9qG4x-z2UHlvChxQxBT0ubKLnVKUiTk5dtMc_3-47g4Bcbx2Nf91WZ1Hj8Q2dt1zDSUYLg5oPXapM_hdD8pdoN7698u3r4bot_JfD73zDU36FEW62YgPkZDvaW1sLPrhAokUKbqPYNFS5hsshwy0Hwf/s320/IMG_20240114_235837736.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After my cheese stupor wore off, I had a grim suspicion that as amazing as this was right out of the oven, it turns into a gummy sad mess as soon as it gets cold. But some poking around on the internet said that you can just put it back into the oven and reheat it. I was suspicious of that. Most of the time, when you reheat bread in the oven, it gets dried out and hardened- and no one wants that unless they're making toast. <p></p><p>But emboldened by the freezing heat and telling myself that I wasn't just making up excuses to stand in front of a hot oven, I unceremoniously threw the last leftover piece of cheese pouf into the oven the next night. Our fancy French bread looked tragically undignified sitting on the baking stone that <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2021/01/attempting-pita-bread.html" target="_blank">occasionally makes pita bread</a> but mostly gets used for frozen pizzas.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNw6iu4dq6_xyDMtLDKOELphsIQfQkTivgTQrQCBQa7l6q5QINckmmwlsnLBVu1-R6NDGZxTIKd8Wybm4B-rSMb4WGx__hO2dyy4kHfe2O1_Q-EQy294MXmEDwnudZ1e4n-qeeGkyYMj7mPHHjd40rKhLTXVlG1Rlxo2DjpAeEHQSzpT__b5xjDKl8gHvg/s4096/IMG_20240115_233625664.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNw6iu4dq6_xyDMtLDKOELphsIQfQkTivgTQrQCBQa7l6q5QINckmmwlsnLBVu1-R6NDGZxTIKd8Wybm4B-rSMb4WGx__hO2dyy4kHfe2O1_Q-EQy294MXmEDwnudZ1e4n-qeeGkyYMj7mPHHjd40rKhLTXVlG1Rlxo2DjpAeEHQSzpT__b5xjDKl8gHvg/s320/IMG_20240115_233625664.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />To my surprise, the cheese pouf reheated really well. I won't say that it was exactly the same as when it was fresh, but it was respectably close. It didn't dry out like I feared (though it was a bit crunchier than the first time). Also, I have to note that since you reheat this at 350° (or 180°C), you can easily put something else in the oven alongside the leftover cheesy bread.
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Since you need to make this early enough for the dough to completely (and I do mean <i>completely</i>) cool off before baking, a cheesy choux pouf is a really good choice if you have friends coming over. You can get it ready to bake at your convenience, completely clean away the mess at a leisurely pace, and let the cheesy delight wait in the refrigerator. Instead of cooking when your friends are here, you can simply put pop this into the oven and make sure you can hear the timer from wherever you are. Or, you can make this for yourself and whoever is lucky enough to wander into the kitchen when the cheese smell drifts to them.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MgiX7hGWeHzXE6cA_13LkoTvW3iwFh2KstspF9qG4x-z2UHlvChxQxBT0ubKLnVKUiTk5dtMc_3-47g4Bcbx2Nf91WZ1Hj8Q2dt1zDSUYLg5oPXapM_hdD8pdoN7698u3r4bot_JfD73zDU36FEW62YgPkZDvaW1sLPrhAokUKbqPYNFS5hsshwy0Hwf/s4096/IMG_20240114_235837736.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MgiX7hGWeHzXE6cA_13LkoTvW3iwFh2KstspF9qG4x-z2UHlvChxQxBT0ubKLnVKUiTk5dtMc_3-47g4Bcbx2Nf91WZ1Hj8Q2dt1zDSUYLg5oPXapM_hdD8pdoN7698u3r4bot_JfD73zDU36FEW62YgPkZDvaW1sLPrhAokUKbqPYNFS5hsshwy0Hwf/s320/IMG_20240114_235837736.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br /></p><p></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-58884671701404236862024-01-14T16:55:00.000-08:002024-02-17T01:30:57.143-08:00Fante's Pizzelles: or, The recipes keep getting better<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDW54S65cfDo58QuWec2Cf703DXOXlfSWnYeSXXhdrTXSsssxTYOSet7xvXLyRJ5t0t92Nnu0qd1zyNL7nHVpp1TZ-eINN1lnMrvNCheYgtoDD8MUWPZFnRfvavWuAiicU_DJeghhdAILAARWTaNKhmmJ02FRvVYeE1_5EHiKA0IM3Eg8I_neBX-lZJRcF/s4096/IMG_20231223_032947835.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>After more than a decade of trying, Ebay's suggestion algorithm finally got me.</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXDOwz4kas41oh5TV8ZXoWRAhhv4sdHXSwal1b7-1KhabcqelPMWYjZMg3-f2o9GdTzG1G4YxLdM5BNBGnu4LEe9w4QcPgF20JG7Bl0bIs0NMHIyKQtXUV1LVs8xtGMnRjMZImE29zGsaY9iafDuhIuJ8RpCvhNGjwGfCUdjc453TUAzHD-3nkTAJEtMxT/s4096/IMG_20231221_045005825.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXDOwz4kas41oh5TV8ZXoWRAhhv4sdHXSwal1b7-1KhabcqelPMWYjZMg3-f2o9GdTzG1G4YxLdM5BNBGnu4LEe9w4QcPgF20JG7Bl0bIs0NMHIyKQtXUV1LVs8xtGMnRjMZImE29zGsaY9iafDuhIuJ8RpCvhNGjwGfCUdjc453TUAzHD-3nkTAJEtMxT/s320/IMG_20231221_045005825.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Fante's Special Pizzelle Recipe</b><br />
3 eggs<br />
6 oz (¾ cups) sugar<br />
5 oz (1 cup plus 2 tbsp) melted shortening<br />
1½ tsp anise seeds*<br />1½ tsp vanilla<br />
Juice and grated rind of ¼ orange or lemon<br />
11 oz (2 cups) flour<br />
<br />
Beat eggs and sugar until they become light and foamy. <br />
Add the melted shortening, a little at a time. Add the anise seeds, vanilla, grated rinds and juices. Gradually add the flour until a light dough is formed; light enough to drop onto the iron with a spoon. You may have a little bit of flour left over.<br />
Drop spoonfuls onto the center of a hot pizzelle iron. Use a knife to push the dough off of the spoon.<br />
Cook until golden, following to the manufacturer's directions.<br /><br />
*Use ground anise seeds, anise extract, or anise oil if desired.<br /><br />
<i>Note:</i> This may be totally inauthentic, but our favorite way to flavor these is to add a near-excessive amount of cinnamon.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: <a href="http://fantes.net/pizzelle.html" target="_blank">Fante's Kitchen</a></span></div>
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>I'm impressed that Ebay sold me another pizzelle iron. After all, I already have one. Furthermore, I hate when clutter piles up around me. On top of that, I don't give Ebay a whole lot of shopping history to work with. About two-thirds of my purchases are out of necessity (such as tracking down replacement interior bits as my car ages). About half of the remaining purchases are not for myself, but for various friends and relations who ask me "Could you go online and find me a _____?" This leaves a tiny amount of recreational splurges for Ebay's computer to work with. Nevertheless, they sold me this thing.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBADB5TMYy6muI5duBJ3LRe2sOnQOqvDKGMU1AdVTU2hzYE5b3qgsmk82ioxmrbFv73_dHzWIfJq-bfq8kyFTMheTXKgKB-sQPnq7NSsGp8PKpmgRMlrvuhA2iKWIzKjcPJpL6L6KC_lt919c_qBw06IYptH2TqZsDGRfL6vAmAwYdGLkkg0c-HbvUIoV4/s4096/IMG_20231221_044952089.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBADB5TMYy6muI5duBJ3LRe2sOnQOqvDKGMU1AdVTU2hzYE5b3qgsmk82ioxmrbFv73_dHzWIfJq-bfq8kyFTMheTXKgKB-sQPnq7NSsGp8PKpmgRMlrvuhA2iKWIzKjcPJpL6L6KC_lt919c_qBw06IYptH2TqZsDGRfL6vAmAwYdGLkkg0c-HbvUIoV4/s320/IMG_20231221_044952089.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Before we get to the recipe, I wanted to get to know this iron in the most low-stakes way possible. And so, rather than making anything from scratch, I reconstituted some instant waffle mix. I don't particularly like instant waffles, but they do make it easy to mix a small serving without measuring impossibly tiny amounts of baking powder. Heck, if you want a single pancake the size of a coaster, you can easily pour out a tiny allotment of powder and then stir in a half-splash of water.
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Because I'm not an idiot, I gave our iron a good spritz of cooking spray. After putting the batter on it, I closed the lid and held it tightly shut as we have done for our previous pizzelles. I opened the pizzelle iron and immediately knew that I had failed. </p><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zzEAkHCrE2W3ueCoVEQqtOzVE4Dd95fD1OTQMto7WJyVT2cfktrMfCEgzQFiYAgtC71tZDk5RqfkN6UD_pCkQlCLzLQB6vKnfcmjcUk_FjHCQbilvH3GzKWLQdfAKOTHOe70Hd9UrwYgjYlEn3NN2JE_cK_WGiW_gUr3IZ7_s4bqLB39J_BL3w4IWNfj/s4096/IMG_20231220_221351527.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zzEAkHCrE2W3ueCoVEQqtOzVE4Dd95fD1OTQMto7WJyVT2cfktrMfCEgzQFiYAgtC71tZDk5RqfkN6UD_pCkQlCLzLQB6vKnfcmjcUk_FjHCQbilvH3GzKWLQdfAKOTHOe70Hd9UrwYgjYlEn3NN2JE_cK_WGiW_gUr3IZ7_s4bqLB39J_BL3w4IWNfj/s320/IMG_20231220_221351527.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />Having ruined our first attempt, I wanted more than ever to get a semi-competent waffle off of this iron. This was now a challenge. (Also, I did pay for the thing.)<br /></p><p>After giving it some thought, I remembered that you're supposed to put little cooking oil in waffle batter instead of just adding water. (Well, the directions on the back of the box call for melted butter. But we're economizing until we are competent.) And so, we reconstituted another single waffle's worth of batter (this time with cooking oil in it), put it on the iron, and.... </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOr6K6LaDRcxx_IUyyR7LSFOemb7_Sd3J1VioofB0rhocc6952Guqgwsof3C0xA4jtRu9TAG7gBpf6ppq1zruvcpEZaOlNQENxP5VxWJhBL9wngADNLkaLTqS4FORU4V-MqYIkRMcIZ5xm2lK-kdJnZKBBdWmnlM6JYGNKGDbcMInEe3siD11s_blQU4RD/s4096/IMG_20231220_222455993.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOr6K6LaDRcxx_IUyyR7LSFOemb7_Sd3J1VioofB0rhocc6952Guqgwsof3C0xA4jtRu9TAG7gBpf6ppq1zruvcpEZaOlNQENxP5VxWJhBL9wngADNLkaLTqS4FORU4V-MqYIkRMcIZ5xm2lK-kdJnZKBBdWmnlM6JYGNKGDbcMInEe3siD11s_blQU4RD/s320/IMG_20231220_222455993.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Although the waffle didn't stick, it was too thin to lift intact. It easily let go of the iron with some gentle prodding, but the end results looked like this:<p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIuOughBF90sacB-pkB3T5QIiUCz0yGwSiChrLrrm8MlutSWSfR05oBbyh6cD9r9MPzrM3aZrKNj-7FUfKRLtu2nByhMWol_Vq5e2-jewzFQsqswJI4gddoQphUIastucr4bnFJotw_B5-dIK2k8k90vyN15nhQxPLSgg5ym7F8C6iwfAfIfcLAHNSQQic/s4096/IMG_20231220_222751455.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIuOughBF90sacB-pkB3T5QIiUCz0yGwSiChrLrrm8MlutSWSfR05oBbyh6cD9r9MPzrM3aZrKNj-7FUfKRLtu2nByhMWol_Vq5e2-jewzFQsqswJI4gddoQphUIastucr4bnFJotw_B5-dIK2k8k90vyN15nhQxPLSgg5ym7F8C6iwfAfIfcLAHNSQQic/s320/IMG_20231220_222751455.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first one is always for the fairies anyway. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />At least we were improving. The first waffle had to be gouged off of the iron with a toothpick, this one flaked off without inducing any cursing whatsoever. </p><p>Anyway, this failure was very informative. It told me that with this particular iron, one must be very careful how thinly one presses the waffles within.
With our first pizzelle iron (shown below), the actual waffle part is a little bit recessed inside a raised rim. And so, if you hold it tightly closed, your pizzelle will come out perfect. Or at least, it won't be squished to death.</p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUJJdjXENcuubAw2dmH8lJj63Ek-kuz5yMT_radP94jsl4KXOiQKto8p8vahV64B4M8bO9QxHJFTeXOpGRdGu41mlZd9Wiwau-QAoiw7ZpSVcQs7nnWk52bPGRKjoXyZ_vod-XnN40Bs57MpsZz0QAuJjWBz2ysNjAVZW_yBwcom9efdZQ1-IyEpeq-ig/s800/IMG_20231219_213825910.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUJJdjXENcuubAw2dmH8lJj63Ek-kuz5yMT_radP94jsl4KXOiQKto8p8vahV64B4M8bO9QxHJFTeXOpGRdGu41mlZd9Wiwau-QAoiw7ZpSVcQs7nnWk52bPGRKjoXyZ_vod-XnN40Bs57MpsZz0QAuJjWBz2ysNjAVZW_yBwcom9efdZQ1-IyEpeq-ig/s320/IMG_20231219_213825910.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />However, the iron we're using today has no raised rim. So apparently, you want to press it sort-of closed so that your pizzelles are thin and crisp-- but you don't want to hold the handles <i>too</i> tight lest you squeeze your pizzelles out of existence.
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I also gave this some thought and realized that I wasn't making pizzelles. I was making instant waffles. You're not supposed to squeeze those flat, but let the batter push up the lid as much as it wants. And while we might cook waffle batter on a pizzelle iron, it will never turn into a pizzelle. We needed to let the batter be its fluffy self instead of trying to make it act like Italian cookies. And so, for our third attempt, we put the batter onto the iron and then let go of the handles. </p><p>Because I'm daft but not an idiot, I also drenched the iron with cooking spray. As the batter lifted up the iron, you could see the heavy coating of oil bubbling and sizzling within.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvO7w4HHl0EUPwwreTlYHtGIn-x_MlXbmz0QXBxKHxDiwqIUu1util1RyfvpdRfR-79BfsKKs4A7tNqsRMfPtlmoDIn8wx4B0sp_xoEeJgAT7viZ4Zo_WhZQ-HJFeH8L2fcwLQlfMv_LC8BRCqG5v8LeceYoAtO8KgMm40MwAiLIqSYThv_vd8DhPGEXG/s3330/IMG_20231220_223302865.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2498" data-original-width="3330" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvO7w4HHl0EUPwwreTlYHtGIn-x_MlXbmz0QXBxKHxDiwqIUu1util1RyfvpdRfR-79BfsKKs4A7tNqsRMfPtlmoDIn8wx4B0sp_xoEeJgAT7viZ4Zo_WhZQ-HJFeH8L2fcwLQlfMv_LC8BRCqG5v8LeceYoAtO8KgMm40MwAiLIqSYThv_vd8DhPGEXG/s320/IMG_20231220_223302865.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Upon opening the iron, we found a lovely-looking, totally-not-stuck waffle! However, I had no idea how to get it out. It's not like you can just slide a spatula under this thing. But after carefully pushing a wooden skewer under each ridge one at a time, we achieved liftoff!
<p></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrSoxKVURV35YxC5-ZQRi1PISoSziLgZ_7Va3biPowud1xvuiQsM9U3BN21H014JUecbQNpcFm1H-po1Eihkg7Ao5Ia_N2OpshRuVUZtou8CUEuR9QNRfurBMX4VF7GUGjKAN2le066udMmkqQnGuyAG0jE5s54awCSzfuV26Vg1rb0jTCf0BS0v9Dmmuz/s4096/IMG_20231220_223547398.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrSoxKVURV35YxC5-ZQRi1PISoSziLgZ_7Va3biPowud1xvuiQsM9U3BN21H014JUecbQNpcFm1H-po1Eihkg7Ao5Ia_N2OpshRuVUZtou8CUEuR9QNRfurBMX4VF7GUGjKAN2le066udMmkqQnGuyAG0jE5s54awCSzfuV26Vg1rb0jTCf0BS0v9Dmmuz/s320/IMG_20231220_223547398.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At this point, I was getting tired of barely managing to get waffles off of this iron. Clearly there was a technique I was missing. I decided to reach out for help again. <p></p><p>You may recall that <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/12/pizzelles-or-lose-man-keep-recipes.html" target="_blank">when I first tried to cook pizzelles on the stove</a>, I called Fante's Kitchen Shop in Philadelphia to ask how hot the burner should be under the pizzelle iron. Well, I poked around their website until I found an email address. I then sent an email with photos of the iron, more or less begging for help. The owner herself answered, advising that I grease it generously. I told her that I'd used plenty of cooking spray, and she replied that spray "is not always the best choice for these irons." She recommended brushing it with melted shortening.
</p><p>
She also asked "Is your iron is hot enough?" As far as how to pry them off the iron since a spatula was useless, she wrote "Pizzelle should slide right off."
</p><p>
Well I had no idea if my iron was hot enough. I had been getting it about as hot as I do a frying pan when I'm about to put dinner in it. Then I considered that I had been advised that one should be able to say one Hail Mary for each side of the pizzelles. But I couldn't say the Hail Mary slowly enough for how long mine needed to cook. </p><p>I asked myself "What's the worst that can happen if I overheat the iron?" A burnt waffle would be disappointing but insignificant. A stuck-on waffle would be irksome, but I'd already scraped stuck-on batter out of this iron and we had only been together for one afternoon. We were in no danger of blackened cinders welding themselves to the metal because I was not going to put the iron onto the stove and then wander off to let it burn unattended. (And if things got <i>really</i> bad, I could cadge some of the more hazardous solvents from my friends who like working on cars.) </p><p>With that in mind, I got the iron searing-hot. When I flicked some water-drops off my fingers, they didn't land with a sizzle. They vaporized with a harsh-sounding SPAT! </p><p>During the surprisingly long wait for the iron to heat up, I melted shortening in the microwave and got out the marinade brush that gets used a
lot in grilling. Usually, greasing the pan is one of the most
forgettable parts of cooking, but I was not mentally prepared for where
today's pizzelles were taking me. Despite using a stovetop waffle iron, I
wasn't ready to get so old-fashioned as to forsake the cooking spray.
It felt like crossing a bridge that over which I could never return.<br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5vq4x592nlKU1fnWoNk3NRI4BvsYxq4cYpYjasuaRocxCaPuIhImBLfB_Vbaz-xe6ZgKCC-VC22poWbvNZ-ZvsulPBVnzi6SdewajCTUnydgei0-JtNxI-slOagCpKHY1qZbXlnwq2f4_V4o1FVmpdi29v481fRZ0c3yMafF7sd2NubXZRH7XH0rxW0H/s4096/IMG_20231223_025440439.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5vq4x592nlKU1fnWoNk3NRI4BvsYxq4cYpYjasuaRocxCaPuIhImBLfB_Vbaz-xe6ZgKCC-VC22poWbvNZ-ZvsulPBVnzi6SdewajCTUnydgei0-JtNxI-slOagCpKHY1qZbXlnwq2f4_V4o1FVmpdi29v481fRZ0c3yMafF7sd2NubXZRH7XH0rxW0H/s320/IMG_20231223_025440439.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Of course, greasing waffle irons with shortening is a very old
technique. In the days before you could quickly melt it in the microwave
(or set the shortening over the
stove's pilot light), Miss Leslie directed cooks to rub their hot waffle
irons with a small cloth bag of lard. </p><p><span id="shortening">I was telling a friend who is a chemist that I had forsaken my beloved cooking spray and
gotten more archaic than I planned. He noted that shortening "has some
uncanny nonstick properties more comparable to Teflon than a natural
oil."</span></p><p>I should also note that a while ago, I asked an environmental scientist
friend of mine whether shortening biodegrades or not. I said "I know
that's not your area of study, but I figure you must be up the hallway
from someone with an answer." A day later, he responded "She said 'under
the right circumstances.'"</p><p>When the iron was finally hot enough and also hand-brushed with melted fat, I placed another dab of reconstituted waffle mix onto it.
Our waffle required a lot longer than a single Hail Mary per side, but I
figured that it was fluffy instead of thin and crisp. Therefore, the
heat had a lot batter more to penetrate. <br /></p><p>After the iron started to emit a toasty smell, I raised up the lid to see what we had inside. To my astonishment and delight, our waffle flapped around a bit as I lifted the top of the iron. In other words, the waffle let go of the iron of its own accord. I then held the pizzelle iron over a plate and flipped it upside down. The waffle fell right out, and landed on the plate in golden perfection.
I didn't even use the spatula I had gotten out. In happy surprise, I returned it to the drawer instead of dropping it into the sink with the other dirty dishes. The waffle itself was fluffy in the middle, and crispier on the outside than any waffle I've ever made. Or maybe it was the same as the many other waffles I've made, and the secret ingredient was the sweet feeling of success. But whatever the reason, this was the best instant waffle I've ever had. It didn't even need syrup.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbLwhsb3wY_192vZvqXuZZYc2wLc-q1421AQl_l1zDSDfqaycez2XN8FDK7KZYfm1ikJ4MN7_BhK-mlrPFY4D_Xppgr7Cwqaxz3ZUldpa-O5SbrSQXWoxNjD04kxoY48AGwvu402ERRIRfBLlF8NasDjFwhohnAMqdKk5sfsaK9OVQ9QOz5b1As0L2Ni2/s3655/IMG_20231221_121432784.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2436" data-original-width="3655" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbLwhsb3wY_192vZvqXuZZYc2wLc-q1421AQl_l1zDSDfqaycez2XN8FDK7KZYfm1ikJ4MN7_BhK-mlrPFY4D_Xppgr7Cwqaxz3ZUldpa-O5SbrSQXWoxNjD04kxoY48AGwvu402ERRIRfBLlF8NasDjFwhohnAMqdKk5sfsaK9OVQ9QOz5b1As0L2Ni2/s320/IMG_20231221_121432784.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />This brings us to today's recipe. Since the people at Fante's had been so helpful in my journey towards pizzelle competence, why not use the pizzelle recipe from their website? The note they typed above it was a decisive sales pitch: "This recipe has been around since the beginning of the century, and has been enjoyed by the thousands upon thousands of our customers who have, over the years, purchased pizzelle irons from us." I love that the original handout recommends calling Mrs. Fante herself "if more information is desired."
<p></p><p>
</p><span id="fantesrecipe"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TbV-KisqWfBCdjrUdWvW8dN4jKqnltaG9mQDNhe5SszXATKIFRwFmikb6eYr7uDIO3dd7WFGe3n9GalWdESu3MdiVuLcU_CgXq9pMCQsJ9hyqr0xAg63veiRkoYWT4eMWghDZyIoqTAx_NKdqieC-UH-Gk9k6PAVKv3xOpAHC6pLFzE_LtsfEt876e3Q/s497/pizzelle-recipe-fantes-1960.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="497" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TbV-KisqWfBCdjrUdWvW8dN4jKqnltaG9mQDNhe5SszXATKIFRwFmikb6eYr7uDIO3dd7WFGe3n9GalWdESu3MdiVuLcU_CgXq9pMCQsJ9hyqr0xAg63veiRkoYWT4eMWghDZyIoqTAx_NKdqieC-UH-Gk9k6PAVKv3xOpAHC6pLFzE_LtsfEt876e3Q/s320/pizzelle-recipe-fantes-1960.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: <a href="http://fantes.net/pizzelle.html" target="_blank">Fante's Kitchen</a><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span>As I got ready to make today's recipe, I decided to ask an Italian friend what to flavor them with. (One of the beautiful things about the modern age is that you can talk to people across the world much faster than the speed of pen pals.) I'm not obsessed with "authenticity," but I thought it might be a neat cultural insight. And I certainly got one when he answered "Do you know I have never heard of it?"
<p></p><p>
He went on to state "Being from northern Italy, it's not our tradition to make them." But he did a bit of internet searching for me, and came back with the most surprising (to me) part of the entire conversation: there are two kinds of pizzelles. Furthermore, the lacy-looking, waffle-iron cookies appear in every Italian-American home I've ever been to are the "less known" (his words) kind in Italy. Apparently the word "pizzelle" more often refers to miniature pizzas stacked on top of deep-fried crusts. </p><p>So pizzelles are <a href="https://foodtimeline.org/foodbreads.html#garlicbread" target="_blank">more Italian than garlic bread</a>, but they're not ubiquitous throughout Italy. I wasn't prepared for that answer, but I should have been. In America, it's easy to forget that Italy has multiple regions with different types of food. What we tend to think of as "Italian food" is (mostly) from southern Italy, because that's where most Italian immigrants came from. My friend, however, lives in the northern part of the Italy. To put this into American terms, it's like asking someone from New England how to make Southwestern food. They may not even recognize the names.
</p><p>
Because I sometimes have the foresight to plan ahead, I measured out the ingredients while supper was simmering on the stove. I only say this because our tiny mint cake looked very cute next to them.
</p><p>(I made the mint cake just to find out what it tastes like to put mint extract into an otherwise unassuming cake. Turns out mint and butter go together unexpectedly well.) <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqe8ODqE4OLkavbc7OXZn4ESApgdEHkHlhjmFoq6WDwl3PYTRvVhWU8bJELycpYqb-9O29vmsRcouAD1brDIOrfEKWfH1ShMnL2cBIQimtLt7xSLConw_Y3-K05zO1ux5rVQwxelGJmHK51kU23GxPdV5EL4CC8mv9YW_WOjWAqtnhwt9atX2xAO4PkfBX/s4096/IMG_20231223_023126483.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqe8ODqE4OLkavbc7OXZn4ESApgdEHkHlhjmFoq6WDwl3PYTRvVhWU8bJELycpYqb-9O29vmsRcouAD1brDIOrfEKWfH1ShMnL2cBIQimtLt7xSLConw_Y3-K05zO1ux5rVQwxelGJmHK51kU23GxPdV5EL4CC8mv9YW_WOjWAqtnhwt9atX2xAO4PkfBX/s320/IMG_20231223_023126483.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The recipe directs that we should beat the eggs until foamy (well really, the single egg because we're not cranking out 6 dozen pizzelles). I turned on the mixer and let it run while I finished tidying up the counterspace. By the time we had everything ready, our egg was so well-beaten that even <a href="http://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2015/03/jelly-cake-or-were-getting-really.html#beateneggs" target="_blank">Miss Leslie would have approved</a>.
<p></p><p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3vYAngUi21LfbW7ujD5MpF8R3L09pxus1p1CTma0b3fbgZdf0p2uZuNXNc-Mc9aA_E1F1kJ13TvxKTw32MCi_qNSJCaIU31cxCVMuNjWIeZ8t-tMxfKT5tAOX0l5Q22matkrJY5pQzHeKBDylBV5fJGfkv8kzLp3p3JQmrb3e_PDvw8HmEyknixCvzJo/s4096/IMG_20231223_024329794.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3vYAngUi21LfbW7ujD5MpF8R3L09pxus1p1CTma0b3fbgZdf0p2uZuNXNc-Mc9aA_E1F1kJ13TvxKTw32MCi_qNSJCaIU31cxCVMuNjWIeZ8t-tMxfKT5tAOX0l5Q22matkrJY5pQzHeKBDylBV5fJGfkv8kzLp3p3JQmrb3e_PDvw8HmEyknixCvzJo/s320/IMG_20231223_024329794.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bowl contains one egg and nothing else.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Unlike our previous pizzelle recipe, this one uses no baking powder at all. The only leavening is what you beat into it. With that in mind, I sifted the flour to break up any lumps before stirring it in. That way, we could do minimal stirring and thus deflate the batter as little as possible.
<p></p><p>
As a final recipe note, even though I was about to put copious amounts of shortening on the iron, I had reservations about putting it into the pizzelles themselves. And so, we dug into the freezer and pulled out the beef fat. You couldn't taste any meaty difference. It's like we're using lard, only we rendered it at home instead of buying an unnervingly heavy can of it. Also, I've been saving beef fat ever since the price of hamburger shot past the moon. It's been sitting in the freezer for ages. I had no idea what to do with it, but felt guilty about throwing it out.<br /></p><p>And so, sooner than I expected, we were ready to try and cook these on the new zigzag pizzelle iron! This is our first real recipe on it, and I had high hopes. </p><p></p><p></p><p>
Well, we brushed on the melted shortening(!) and dropped on a tiny spoonful of pizzelle batter (better to go too small than too big when your excess batter burns when it oozes out). I then cooked it for a little over a minute per side, and then opened the iron to find that its first "real" pizzelle was stuck. No amount of striking the iron from the back with a wooden spoon would free the cookie. I think that after carefully and excessively dousing every notch and groove on the iron, I forgot to brush anything onto the flat circle in the center.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeW4UMI3WcEtPFztuWxydiEPwGwoe-QhytqkFUjNaUNhh8g7UMYa-DUFjr1s1LsC3h2YV03phgn_2-ISx9ijPcqnlvoPbwJZDotdKK_UPSOa0PYWE3M-8n8FAhtSqvH4Bo40HgzL_buSaJAX1-xxE02NMYv401zzD9CZb_Dc_dTQloebrKcLWjwvHmL8L/s3071/IMG_20231223_025838389.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3071" data-original-width="2456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeW4UMI3WcEtPFztuWxydiEPwGwoe-QhytqkFUjNaUNhh8g7UMYa-DUFjr1s1LsC3h2YV03phgn_2-ISx9ijPcqnlvoPbwJZDotdKK_UPSOa0PYWE3M-8n8FAhtSqvH4Bo40HgzL_buSaJAX1-xxE02NMYv401zzD9CZb_Dc_dTQloebrKcLWjwvHmL8L/s320/IMG_20231223_025838389.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br />I barely (but successfully) managed to pry the pizzelle off in one piece. For our next one, I made sure to brush the entire iron, including that flat spot in the middle of it. After our next pizzelle had cooked, we raised the lid and hopefully wondered: "Does it look a little looser?" Well, we held the loaded iron over the cooling rack, turned it upside-down, and the pizzelle fluttered downward like a beautiful snowflake.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPhQxLi_MWoa_XwNknopL61XANngssEUQoVlan5gzOj7O2R-JpJWS4wyKB_Hyyx70wGfdhNkAPIdQSIF70Jxg_IIeCPQAZ4-7yZU4Pojw97vWfSfPKXfum9NjJ1mg6UlRMbMLu_ALLL5wpf3RpLQ7tkcgw6lWAZOq6u9F065_sJfJrQH1ZDQMkGd_oxjy/s3840/IMG_20231223_030550298.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="3840" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPhQxLi_MWoa_XwNknopL61XANngssEUQoVlan5gzOj7O2R-JpJWS4wyKB_Hyyx70wGfdhNkAPIdQSIF70Jxg_IIeCPQAZ4-7yZU4Pojw97vWfSfPKXfum9NjJ1mg6UlRMbMLu_ALLL5wpf3RpLQ7tkcgw6lWAZOq6u9F065_sJfJrQH1ZDQMkGd_oxjy/s320/IMG_20231223_030550298.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />I started gradually increasing the pizzelle size, hoping to find that perfect amount of batter that fills the iron without dripping out of it. Our results were erratic. I frequently had to use the spatula to scrape off any oozing excess. </p><p>Also, our first successful attempts looked like a pair of owl eyes on the cooling rack.<br /></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdYk5zMt8DmJCfUyMNhQji5PDvBjgcKh2ePMNqzwxsi0_knR8vZHhVFHVB1gPcPtqaqlgzsWXFenkSilJ7zOuYieb_h8TCjDYHDf8-eMQ5tQOEjlxNd0jFE3hR36-m3syuYD9YqUe888s7tUFyLof7VhHwcBkOa79jQdcZ9rEIVun9lr3_yszoaI7rSsk/s4096/IMG_20231223_030853920.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdYk5zMt8DmJCfUyMNhQji5PDvBjgcKh2ePMNqzwxsi0_knR8vZHhVFHVB1gPcPtqaqlgzsWXFenkSilJ7zOuYieb_h8TCjDYHDf8-eMQ5tQOEjlxNd0jFE3hR36-m3syuYD9YqUe888s7tUFyLof7VhHwcBkOa79jQdcZ9rEIVun9lr3_yszoaI7rSsk/s320/IMG_20231223_030853920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />In full disclosure, a lot of our pizzelles had singed edges. I tried to convince myself that they were "rustic," but my powers of self-delusion can only go so far.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHs8cYtpoo3kOprrtWXB8khEAz0R6s6Q_-N8Qu5pTBZUY1pms62VU-upRU8hAKAXbIaiXh0n50u8dqwIq45KtdQzQsl6lmF9i4seJVH2quuBRR8cldH4S11zE62g8O4vR_TKYxoC3eX0D-OG97yF0zNxgSEEKsP8OK2i1b7nlgCSk74h7HvvK2xGCEPhH/s4096/IMG_20231223_031222988.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHs8cYtpoo3kOprrtWXB8khEAz0R6s6Q_-N8Qu5pTBZUY1pms62VU-upRU8hAKAXbIaiXh0n50u8dqwIq45KtdQzQsl6lmF9i4seJVH2quuBRR8cldH4S11zE62g8O4vR_TKYxoC3eX0D-OG97yF0zNxgSEEKsP8OK2i1b7nlgCSk74h7HvvK2xGCEPhH/s320/IMG_20231223_031222988.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />My friend's comments about the "uncanny nonstick properties" of shortening proved correct. If we hold one of these up to the nearest light, check out how wispy it is between the ridges. I can't believe it fell off the iron intact.<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4llHJz-AB6sRaJfMvulj_9bfTjf3g46GGSVcrUHY3azYpM32nVorUzlEjNUzMEOqxxiA3QoREH7p_b-tzAM0niBEvJGXkBDGb8Fci_w4RpeJBQEvRshMIlm2e7OyBW3J26BXuSeFuXwNlw2O6RD6qWwSHTVFAsbv-zfPRO0eG-ykHTrGquj-IXVilbKn1/s4096/IMG_20231223_030628303_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4llHJz-AB6sRaJfMvulj_9bfTjf3g46GGSVcrUHY3azYpM32nVorUzlEjNUzMEOqxxiA3QoREH7p_b-tzAM0niBEvJGXkBDGb8Fci_w4RpeJBQEvRshMIlm2e7OyBW3J26BXuSeFuXwNlw2O6RD6qWwSHTVFAsbv-zfPRO0eG-ykHTrGquj-IXVilbKn1/s320/IMG_20231223_030628303_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />I thought that brushing on melted shortening would be a miserably messy ordeal. But while it is a very drippy process, it doesn't have the same blast radius as a can of cooking spray. All of our dripping fat was confined to one small zone instead of sprayed onto everything on the countertop. There were some stray shortening drops that get flicked off the brush, but the cleanup was a lot less greasy. Also, it's about as quick as cooking spray. You just flick the brush across the iron for a second or two. <br /></p><p></p><p>
After the last of the pizzelles had been cooked, I had to stop and just stare at what we had done. I don't know if I've ever done cookies that looked this good before.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDW54S65cfDo58QuWec2Cf703DXOXlfSWnYeSXXhdrTXSsssxTYOSet7xvXLyRJ5t0t92Nnu0qd1zyNL7nHVpp1TZ-eINN1lnMrvNCheYgtoDD8MUWPZFnRfvavWuAiicU_DJeghhdAILAARWTaNKhmmJ02FRvVYeE1_5EHiKA0IM3Eg8I_neBX-lZJRcF/s4096/IMG_20231223_032947835.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDW54S65cfDo58QuWec2Cf703DXOXlfSWnYeSXXhdrTXSsssxTYOSet7xvXLyRJ5t0t92Nnu0qd1zyNL7nHVpp1TZ-eINN1lnMrvNCheYgtoDD8MUWPZFnRfvavWuAiicU_DJeghhdAILAARWTaNKhmmJ02FRvVYeE1_5EHiKA0IM3Eg8I_neBX-lZJRcF/s320/IMG_20231223_032947835.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />These tasted so good. I may end up adopting this pizzelle recipe instead of the one from my ex's grandmother's basement. In terms of flavor and texture, our my ex's grandmother's tasted professional, but these tasted homemade. If you want to try making your own pizzelles, I definitely recommend this recipe. Also, nutmeg is a surprisingly good spice for these. It goes really well with the toasty flavor that comes from cooking these to that rich golden brown. It's not authentic, it's not traditional, but it's delicious anyway.
<p></p><p>
And with this purchase, I am officially immune to any algorithmic attempts to sell me another waffle iron. In the unlikely event that the price doesn't ward me off, I only need to remember how crowded it's getting on top of the fridge.
</p>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFTFM5U5eM-u1s5AM1eK1pw1ZU1OPyYCsUz4vj2JuXN_CsmhOkjmvs-VUqKKys1pmUlAaHzX5BlZNrM1ctScs4XB6uJC_FNr9xI6qQqldxSLa2OCQcqRZTAYrkxbxWVQMlCdxd3PpaLMjb_g1hbsVcC0VBHzq-5JhH2dV9I8bKlg8RzBE9M3WeJJ7n7XWW/s4096/IMG_20231223_050225350.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFTFM5U5eM-u1s5AM1eK1pw1ZU1OPyYCsUz4vj2JuXN_CsmhOkjmvs-VUqKKys1pmUlAaHzX5BlZNrM1ctScs4XB6uJC_FNr9xI6qQqldxSLa2OCQcqRZTAYrkxbxWVQMlCdxd3PpaLMjb_g1hbsVcC0VBHzq-5JhH2dV9I8bKlg8RzBE9M3WeJJ7n7XWW/s320/IMG_20231223_050225350.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I really hoped to end this with a short, jaunty paragraph demystifying stovetop pizzelle irons, or maybe a handy numbered list of tips for anyone who wants to try using one for themselves. But I'm still getting the hang of cooking on these myself! </p><p>The only useful advice I can suggest is to put a paper mat down on which to grease the iron and apply the batter. In an earlier time, I would have suggested using old newspapers. These days, I've been saving the brown paper that pads a lot of mail-order boxes. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpOntLwPYeyE6LIn-14YGgQlzDH5Osp9KDhlREwZ_JbVMr03Bd6HTvSaOMudukKrLPfU6EEhf9N-mptQ-lz5Qc9roH9XVrMoDwkRWEBWn8YwxBAmQcBcnHUtX9ifn3qTMTxQULbBVV2oJp7Bh3_08uPCR2_oFFnBk9q1csMc3ObZHlLNf0YeVYiyN8m33/s4096/IMG_20231219_002946465.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpOntLwPYeyE6LIn-14YGgQlzDH5Osp9KDhlREwZ_JbVMr03Bd6HTvSaOMudukKrLPfU6EEhf9N-mptQ-lz5Qc9roH9XVrMoDwkRWEBWn8YwxBAmQcBcnHUtX9ifn3qTMTxQULbBVV2oJp7Bh3_08uPCR2_oFFnBk9q1csMc3ObZHlLNf0YeVYiyN8m33/s320/IMG_20231219_002946465.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Maybe someone out there can grease a waffle iron without any mess at all, but I am not that good. </p><p>Anyway, if one of these stovetop irons seems daunting, you can always get an electric pizzelle iron. You just
put your batter in there, shut it, and wait for the ready-light. A lot of them even have little dials that let you set how brown you want your pizzelles to be. And of course, they all come with instructions.<br /></p><p>But regardless of whether one uses a stovetop pizzelle iron or an electric one, this is a really good recipe to put on it. <br /></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-61589979369468463972024-01-08T00:27:00.000-08:002024-01-08T00:37:49.209-08:00Ham Loaf: or, The recipe was fine except for the directions<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkzI41VJ8tKY9-JHYq49bB642RfemO8QIasZRhnxdqrieoTAAoY1z15M-p-aaFWkqiG_1IlX_Cu-_XaCW9E_7_8_zcR_hbYmuclvaVabXNhtGZDLtZ_Iv91ecYPwHffsBuPdpoRUCVrkGZ3KpH_Exd4f7S66vq0THydXhwxOYOJXzKlvjSgTuQ1r8iYhx/s4096/IMG_20231206_235912672.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>I'm kind of impressed that today's recipe came so close to success and failed so hard.</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Ham Loaf</b><br />
3 cups chopped ham<br />
1 cup breadcrumbs<br />
2 eggs<br />
3 tbsp chopped celery<br />
2 tbsp chopped onions<br />
½ tsp salt<br />
½ tsp poultry seasoning*<br />
½ tsp paprika<br />
⅓ cup milk<br />
<br />
Heat oven to 350°. Grease a square pan.<br />
Mix everything together. Place into pan and form into a loaf. Add half an inch of water.<br />
Cover the pan with foil if it doesn't have a lid. Bake one hour. Baste while baking.<sup>†</sup><br />
Allow to rest 10 minutes before uncovering and serving. <br />
<br />
*Didn't have that, so I used sage instead.<br />
<sup>†</sup>I absolutely did not baste this.<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: "Helping the Homemaker," <i>Fort Worth</i> (Texas) <i>Star-Telegram</i> page 6, January 6 1934
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7MTCreWOB1IpQmr8MKmoWMZSnMI2t5RgPYa3uCRLUjfoWYelbMJG3HmEXAb3DAdgpRDRAyK-MJtAkITSFUSBcMw2vfKFjI6B_F53adBUpUCifgD5Y10Z-pwQL2OGK15ZMUpExlllY4dgGSIy7zcyX1Hfa4i0wW6kB4-tHEq8V-PWhvg-8e7m1TiHsvjkV/s325/9a%20-%20Copy%20(2).JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="325" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7MTCreWOB1IpQmr8MKmoWMZSnMI2t5RgPYa3uCRLUjfoWYelbMJG3HmEXAb3DAdgpRDRAyK-MJtAkITSFUSBcMw2vfKFjI6B_F53adBUpUCifgD5Y10Z-pwQL2OGK15ZMUpExlllY4dgGSIy7zcyX1Hfa4i0wW6kB4-tHEq8V-PWhvg-8e7m1TiHsvjkV/s320/9a%20-%20Copy%20(2).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Helping the Homemaker," <i>Fort Worth Star-Telegram </i>page 6<i>, </i>January 6 1934, <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />You may think I'm about to write that we still had leftover ham from the holidays, but in reality we bought a ham on clearance... twelve months ago. My objections of "We'll never eat this thing!" got drowned out by "But it's 45¢ a pound!" The ham has reposed in the chest freezer ever since. But apparently, this is the season for leftover ham. "Helping the Homemaker" published this recipe only a few days before we made it. <p></p><p>The freshly-defrosted ham was peculiarly mushy after a year in the bottom of the freezer, but the main problem was the unrelenting brine. I say this as someone who likes salt far too much that I cook spaghetti in literal seawater when I get the chance. One can blame the prolonged freezing for the less-than-optimal texture, but I know of no chemical process by which salt spontaneously forms in frozen meat. I would have been irked because this ham was supposed to be one of the "good" brands, but it was 80% off when we bought it. Perhaps no one else at the store wanted to buy a 20 pound hunk of bone-in salt pork.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkzI41VJ8tKY9-JHYq49bB642RfemO8QIasZRhnxdqrieoTAAoY1z15M-p-aaFWkqiG_1IlX_Cu-_XaCW9E_7_8_zcR_hbYmuclvaVabXNhtGZDLtZ_Iv91ecYPwHffsBuPdpoRUCVrkGZ3KpH_Exd4f7S66vq0THydXhwxOYOJXzKlvjSgTuQ1r8iYhx/s4096/IMG_20231206_235912672.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkzI41VJ8tKY9-JHYq49bB642RfemO8QIasZRhnxdqrieoTAAoY1z15M-p-aaFWkqiG_1IlX_Cu-_XaCW9E_7_8_zcR_hbYmuclvaVabXNhtGZDLtZ_Iv91ecYPwHffsBuPdpoRUCVrkGZ3KpH_Exd4f7S66vq0THydXhwxOYOJXzKlvjSgTuQ1r8iYhx/s320/IMG_20231206_235912672.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At any rate, this seemed like a perfect chance to shove the ham into a meat grinder and try one of these "ham loaves." You see them a lot in old cookbooks, but people seem to have stopped making them a few decades ago. I guess we all stopped having a serving hams throughout the year. If you think about it, most of us only bring out a ham for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and maybe Easter. But a short glance through old recipes and <a href="https://www.appliancesonline.com.au/academy/fridges-freezers/what-can-we-learn-from-vintage-fridge-ads/" target="_blank">refrigerator ads</a> suggests that leftover ham was a more frequent option back in the day.
<p></p><p>
Anyway, since no one wanted to brine themselves from the inside out by eating this ham, no objections were raised to pulverizing a sizable hunk of it. The ham loaf in progress generated a moderate amount of interest. When I handed over the recipe to curious inquirers to read while I shoved ham into the meat grinder, one person said "So you're basically making homemade Spam?"
</p><p>
Our ham loaf immediately lost a lot of its appeal.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWIfXnYXOl0tZbTO30mOBFVlS_n4-fXwqEesoqnRTgSYyhojQtQhQFIvCosnDDheTLlHVQl4TcORdJl057gYIyxg2yzO0GcBGTj-xeKuJOGz2ZRqx1kKVc0t9BFQHJk_2BT5nacF15IfBiSNf_dQrPyDaeDl5CYwxzFJLeiYUqKADcvtXfG1DOcyOIMYc/s4096/IMG_20231213_211045734.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWIfXnYXOl0tZbTO30mOBFVlS_n4-fXwqEesoqnRTgSYyhojQtQhQFIvCosnDDheTLlHVQl4TcORdJl057gYIyxg2yzO0GcBGTj-xeKuJOGz2ZRqx1kKVc0t9BFQHJk_2BT5nacF15IfBiSNf_dQrPyDaeDl5CYwxzFJLeiYUqKADcvtXfG1DOcyOIMYc/s320/IMG_20231213_211045734.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The recipe calls for bread crumbs and milk. We had neither stale bread nor a canister of crumbs, so I decided to use the milk from the ingredients list to soak the heels of our sandwich bread. I always economize by making sure to eat rather than discard the bread heels, but it was nice to forestall at least one future heel sandwich. This would be the only time today's edition of "Helping the Homemaker" lived up to its title.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD89AJxhBKUapFV3NbtiT0sOWHy2MRBdIny4GpNKF8YIiDpgVcMWhdTgUSCsQJHLUBlTDpF4sPUT-kq4_JIAbBFw7RYqOKfBMEzerIymCKrBNrNUmFZSuM2kaDXz3Rme5m82zH141K2QfXe9QxNKh66xZhLvxGvuDb7PvgexdB0Je8ZsmzragJusFsU0lY/s4096/IMG_20231213_204520437.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD89AJxhBKUapFV3NbtiT0sOWHy2MRBdIny4GpNKF8YIiDpgVcMWhdTgUSCsQJHLUBlTDpF4sPUT-kq4_JIAbBFw7RYqOKfBMEzerIymCKrBNrNUmFZSuM2kaDXz3Rme5m82zH141K2QfXe9QxNKh66xZhLvxGvuDb7PvgexdB0Je8ZsmzragJusFsU0lY/s320/IMG_20231213_204520437.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After our ham was pulverized and the rest of our ingredients were chopped, this recipe went the same as any other meatloaf. You put everything into a bowl, get your hands in there, and act like Fanny Cradock making a fruitcake.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvh5TDe9nsQGmn2cfXAkbhyphenhyphenGBv8n72cAe6HRjYMiXs821_9nthrgvDVID4iCE7nXBPGnLRvfqq8GRI3hgT9yvHOISp4CVXFUueGALQmUH1WUg_RRtfdKeKSNu4nZnPtD7b_mCwOLvH8YY0XuMJ77dJl-pULJP6Z2JnjeF1WRtYqVaZtjnR60vQacvMM3dA/s444/Fanny-Fruitcakess.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="331" data-original-width="444" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvh5TDe9nsQGmn2cfXAkbhyphenhyphenGBv8n72cAe6HRjYMiXs821_9nthrgvDVID4iCE7nXBPGnLRvfqq8GRI3hgT9yvHOISp4CVXFUueGALQmUH1WUg_RRtfdKeKSNu4nZnPtD7b_mCwOLvH8YY0XuMJ77dJl-pULJP6Z2JnjeF1WRtYqVaZtjnR60vQacvMM3dA/s320/Fanny-Fruitcakess.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />I had reservations about this recipe after it was ready to bake. First, our loaf <i>really</i> wanted to fall apart. I doubted that the single alotted egg (we're halving the recipe) would miraculously bind it in the oven. Also, for reasons I do not pretend to understand, we are directed to flood the pan with a half-inch of water. While this step mystified me, I decided that the people behind "Helping the Homemaker" added it for a reason and I wasn't going to dispute their directions.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzrIwdemqJ4lbYn-DnF5ZN3pjr7h_5QFZsV-XQS3YwMOHZtzhMAlzWfomLKOx9zgrO8QWY-CoZiHKRUTlb_RMEJsdbaeJ7JEFGnTGEc7Xj30-WPEoxvxx0qS1hXlYrzwrddN4c_9X73VTUoId3liEpqOUCHXewagESW8uT5G0pWVKXXYOPpaGvKbhgI7_/s4096/IMG_20231213_211758713.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzrIwdemqJ4lbYn-DnF5ZN3pjr7h_5QFZsV-XQS3YwMOHZtzhMAlzWfomLKOx9zgrO8QWY-CoZiHKRUTlb_RMEJsdbaeJ7JEFGnTGEc7Xj30-WPEoxvxx0qS1hXlYrzwrddN4c_9X73VTUoId3liEpqOUCHXewagESW8uT5G0pWVKXXYOPpaGvKbhgI7_/s320/IMG_20231213_211758713.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Since our unbaked loaf contained no raw meat, I saw no harm in tasting a small sample. Despite "Helping the Homemaker's" best attempts at seasonings, you couldn't tell that I had gotten out a single spice shaker. I thought that perhaps the spices would get drawn out as this baked for a whole hour.
<p></p><p>
"Helping the Homemaker" directs us to cover the pan and also to baste it. I made the executive decision that I'm not the sort of person who bastes a log of leftover ham. I figured that the steam dripping from the foil would automatically baste the loaf for me. After the loaf's hour was elapsed (plus additional resting time), we peeled back the foil to reveal... this.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9vGzTO8CoE2M-pGHZK2uhSGnOsMei1hHvdKbeopSCiLLMploHLvxH3k2pKo8NaFAw_1CaI7CdegDiWyxUKHk0nhukXf8T7-nt9_TDuNc96GSI7TckOEV9XAoK5jZqVGaQcuAB9bbTeyfaSPbKlxmjWYw9TOk-hhbj3O7ktV3TxOysJZ7GC6gGTw_tvQ03/s4096/IMG_20231213_222816418.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9vGzTO8CoE2M-pGHZK2uhSGnOsMei1hHvdKbeopSCiLLMploHLvxH3k2pKo8NaFAw_1CaI7CdegDiWyxUKHk0nhukXf8T7-nt9_TDuNc96GSI7TckOEV9XAoK5jZqVGaQcuAB9bbTeyfaSPbKlxmjWYw9TOk-hhbj3O7ktV3TxOysJZ7GC6gGTw_tvQ03/s320/IMG_20231213_222816418.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After recovering from the initial disgust, I took the time to truly behold my creation. I was surprised at how much fat rendered off as the loaf baked. I thought I had gotten all of the fat off the ham before putting it into the grinder. Perhaps all the water was there to render out the fat. (After all, who wants a greasy ham loaf?)<p></p><p>
To my complete lack of surprise, this log of compressed meat fell apart as soon as I tried to lift it out.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QmX5uAXBDBQTK3qU8aUzrsKbSEa3kjmYpT8fLLMyRLEHdGZlM8Jz3LVrb2yXBEb6p5b2uwcriVImULPWNJiy5s_a0ZPwOXRNKOPck2a9GDG9b1UxSmgQ9UOr1Xv8i8HkUp7wBfH0Et-HborclqvnMGKlmYGpftpKlPPQJnN_QGJ-SDhXAH94uEQxIggv/s4096/IMG_20231213_223032202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QmX5uAXBDBQTK3qU8aUzrsKbSEa3kjmYpT8fLLMyRLEHdGZlM8Jz3LVrb2yXBEb6p5b2uwcriVImULPWNJiy5s_a0ZPwOXRNKOPck2a9GDG9b1UxSmgQ9UOr1Xv8i8HkUp7wBfH0Et-HborclqvnMGKlmYGpftpKlPPQJnN_QGJ-SDhXAH94uEQxIggv/s320/IMG_20231213_223032202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The people behind "Helping the Homemaker" got all the right ingredients together, but didn't know what to do with them.The ham loaf tasted better than it looked. All of the ingredients go well together. If this didn't look so terrible, I would have said this was a perfectly nice, reasonably economical supper recipe to serve in 1934. However, loafing our leftover ham was pointless. I would have dumped the entire mixture into a frying pan and cooked until hot. <p></p><p>I can only speculate that in 1934, hot hash was old-fashioned and "messy." The 1930s were the early days of entrapping one's hitherto untidy salads into geometrically perfect gelatin molds. Perhaps loafing everything was the most modern, aesthetically-pleasing way to force your sloppy-looking ingredients into rectangle-shaped order.<br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbgUkr8PqZydTAdxM3rsI3IFD58YgcVOjISrOccLrQvgT-0p9soyiY48jLukaE1HsAkUaVGCP5bgow4X_Y7_GW6kWTm5w7npVlmJXah-YxuxisYTEEeXpQ4vA8zXEq3bxRWArr9D13IHJ1u-pBoWjd9RElrFMdJhszms-nStBADZtmP0ntJhJn7CjleD0/s3084/IMG_20231213_223020980.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2314" data-original-width="3084" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbgUkr8PqZydTAdxM3rsI3IFD58YgcVOjISrOccLrQvgT-0p9soyiY48jLukaE1HsAkUaVGCP5bgow4X_Y7_GW6kWTm5w7npVlmJXah-YxuxisYTEEeXpQ4vA8zXEq3bxRWArr9D13IHJ1u-pBoWjd9RElrFMdJhszms-nStBADZtmP0ntJhJn7CjleD0/s320/IMG_20231213_223020980.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Ugliness aside, I didn't throw the leftovers away. They seemed like they'd be really good served with eggs. And so, I microwaved a bit of our disintegrated ham loaf and then put it into an omelet (with cheese, of course). The remains of our featured recipe looked like they landed on the eggs by accident, though.<br /><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHL5-KEuLc1twonuLJPOyqabyG1jGx4969Sg02o1ISsrz51kD1qI-xDjAH3Gllaz9rFwEJDlc0r-9ertxphV7bZVVx3RrY011JmHMZvnazJGFEfxzRjqJVWHVXQk89t-GkKQX4lSJL9ZAFIns_Zb2ousruV9Al7y5tiiDruST1rGVafzQlsY8CiW5n3kN/s4096/IMG_20231214_210810516.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHL5-KEuLc1twonuLJPOyqabyG1jGx4969Sg02o1ISsrz51kD1qI-xDjAH3Gllaz9rFwEJDlc0r-9ertxphV7bZVVx3RrY011JmHMZvnazJGFEfxzRjqJVWHVXQk89t-GkKQX4lSJL9ZAFIns_Zb2ousruV9Al7y5tiiDruST1rGVafzQlsY8CiW5n3kN/s320/IMG_20231214_210810516.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The ham got a lot less frightful after unloafing it, and it's hard to go wrong with ham eggs and cheese.
<p></p><p>
If you have leftover ham you want to unload, this isn't a bad way to repurpose it. Just ignore all the instructions that come after you've mixed everything together. Instead of baking a soggy loaf, put your pulverized ham into a frying pan instead.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIZ3nbn_MhyQhFqti63XZXpqp24W6Q_TPLU2fnqWq8spbgMjW4EItutWNORnA3xR3XpLq_2FLeC-cuXQcszSehDRqiHTBGia8niep7raS6Mm_mXN1c1T2e-CvonkLQQmdDgooz2rA5jVuCMEb5Raa5S6AFlCAe_iIcTayt59WAXLaFWVvzhdCqxkyzd4p/s4096/IMG_20231214_210926697.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIZ3nbn_MhyQhFqti63XZXpqp24W6Q_TPLU2fnqWq8spbgMjW4EItutWNORnA3xR3XpLq_2FLeC-cuXQcszSehDRqiHTBGia8niep7raS6Mm_mXN1c1T2e-CvonkLQQmdDgooz2rA5jVuCMEb5Raa5S6AFlCAe_iIcTayt59WAXLaFWVvzhdCqxkyzd4p/s320/IMG_20231214_210926697.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />I'm surprised that "Helping the Homemaker" had such a bad recipe. Everything else we've made from that column has been plain but good. Although our ham loaf tasted perfectly fine, I hate to imagine any woman in 1934 pulling this out of the oven and grimly realizing she has to convince her family that yes, this really is what's for dinner. </p><p>So, while I don't recommend compressing your ham into a loaf, the ingredients are pretty decent if you put them in a hot frying pan instead- especially if you have them with scrambled eggs. If you insist on following the recipe directions instead of simply using the ingredient list, no amount of dim candlelight will make this ham loaf look pretty.<br /></p><p></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-1965852010290497072024-01-02T11:53:00.000-08:002024-01-05T17:02:08.180-08:00Ijzerkoekjes: or, Dutch cinnamon waffle cookies: or, Delicious adventures in recipes I can't read!<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgha2m4Z7pre5386PkLaTVAX7dtrDecMIHxHFHz74BdOQ6E05tOlQNimIgkqNjvlkRdCY07M3Ez9CUO213dYhk6To__cGz_wLPXFyqSmnMZKDwhHCilO-qdYRsqRx5aGKrQl0IX356ha8HsYFuoZ8Xu37JcerKyCpN7srtq_uCzH5A2eBZMXqZ47t36Rwc/s4096/IMG_20231219_002825656.jpg" style="display: none;" /><p>Sometimes, it's easier to do things the right way.<br /></p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Ijzerkoejke (Waffle Iron Cookies)</b><br /><!--the version we've been doing-->
81g white or brown sugar (about 5 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons)<br />
75g butter (a sliver more than 5 tablespoons)<br />
Cinnamon to taste<br />
⅛ tsp salt (if butter is unsalted)<br />
115g flour (about 1 cup--- you probably won't use it all)<br />
<br />
Cream the butter, sugar, cinnamon, and salt, beating until light. Add enough flour to make a dough that is firm but not dry. If you add too much flour, you can add water or milk (one spoonful at a time) to fix it.<br />Cover the dough and let it sit in the bowl for 30 or so minutes- it will be less crumbly and easier to work with.<br />
Heat a heavy-bottomed griddle or frying pan over low heat (or <i>very</i> slightly above low).*
Roll the dough out a little thicker than a quarter inch (for those who prefer metric, roll it to about about 7 or 8 millimeters). Cut with a round cookie cutter.<sup>†</sup> <br />Lightly grease the pan. Place the cookies on it cook each side until golden, about 3-5 minutes per side.<br />
<br />
*If you want to be totally authentic, these are cooked on a stovetop waffle iron that has shallow ridges (like the ones on ice cream cones). If you have a wafer iron with shallow-cut designs, it will work also. But if you have neither and do not fear the authenticity police, a good heavy frying pan will be just fine.<br />
<sup>†</sup>Apparently these are traditionally cut with a cookie cutter <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfL1bh7th5OBXK48ZvYrDbHRezWp7n5RYNl8Tyy02tPjyQKD_6-ohZylRecafKans6Cq3-bKrEfrwsNpdfc7EfgCPwQLcLv4MvuBxjOJVLwqinNi4XOQqbcgs6Ley-w_3xJtgdQdyIlKVicpE9ImHTnEUBN5druumOZEt8eKwqrgKwIIQ05lnkRigXoeb/s583/ijzercutter.png" target="_blank">shaped like a circle that was cut in half and spread apart</a>. However, they will taste the same if you use a round cutter (or if you repurpose the small circular object of your choice). You can also use use a knife to cut the dough into brownie-sized squares or rectangles.
<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Maladapted from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=IJzerkoekje&oldid=1102115057" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a></span></div>
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p><a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/12/cinnamon-wafers-or-getting-to-know-our.html" target="_blank">When last we saw the ijzerkoekjes</a>, I was making them in a wafer iron the
way anyone does: insert dough, shut lid, wait until baked. We
previously noted that they seemed very European if you're someone who
has never been to Europe. As someone who has never been to Europe, I
suspected that I was making them wrong. And I was correct.</p><p></p><p>Purely for the heck of it, I searched YouTube for "ijzerkoekje." I couldn't pronounce it, I couldn't spell it, but I successfully copied and pasted the word. ("Ijzerkoekje" translates, more or less, to "waffle iron cookie.") While I found a fair number of videos, none of them are in English. (This may mean that I am introducing ijzerkoekjes to the English-speaking world, an honor I am surely not up to.) </p><p>I watched a charming video of <a href="https://youtu.be/DZSKjZywA20?si=6bk2FBIFamSJsln6" target="_blank">a grandfather and granddaughter making them together</a>. Because they were so good at showing all the steps with a well-aimed camera, I didn't need to understand a word they said to follow what they were doing. It turns out that I had the method right except when it came to baking our dough.<br /></p><p>
Unlike every other waffle recipe I've seen, you don't press these cookies in a waffle iron that has a lid. You cook them on a stovetop. Rather than the waffle irons we're all used to, imagine if you had a griddle with a shallow waffle grid cut into it. After using a rolling pin and a cookie cutter on your dough, you put it onto this lidless stovetop waffle iron and cook it one side at a time like you're making pancakes.
</p><p>
I don't know how many times I rewatched that video. Purely for the heck of it, I turned on the captions and let YouTube do its best to translate the video into English. As I expected, I only got sentence fragments. (But it's nonetheless impressive that I got even two words of English captions. The pace of technology can be frightening, but sometimes it's wonderful instead.) As the two people onscreen were pouring ingredients into the bowl, the grandfather was saying something about how everything in the Netherlands was spiced in the old days because the country basically controlled the world's spice trade.
</p><p>
While they briefly showed a copy of the recipe in the grandfather's handwritten notebook, they didn't show an ingredient list. Instead, they had a link in the description to <a href="https://foodtube.nl/cees-en-stella-maken-ijzerkoekjes/" target="_blank">a recipe page</a>. This page had no directions, but it had a list of ingredients that I could copy and paste into Google Translate. This may not be the best way to learn recipes from other countries, but sometimes the adventure lies in bumbling for yourself.
</p><p>
Their recipe is nearly identical to the Wikipedia one, except they add half an egg. "Ah," I thought, "They are people after my own heart!" When you want to cut a recipe in half (or a third, or even less), there's no need to let little problems like "that means I need two fifths of an egg" get in the way. I've gotten so used to subdividing recipes that splitting an egg in half is almost as easy as cracking one open. </p><p>For today's recipe, they halved the egg and still made a <i>lot</i> of cookie dough. This meant that we were going to take the unprecedented step of splitting an egg into fourths. Ever seen a quartered egg?
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBfdOO1T6cK-dbCvaL6ea3xOhHPNmxp2y13KLAxPhOZLUALB7NrBHZwL8o9B_Qlr7fjMHEi74csA9YwQbCrRXc2g0wcavoaMUh7Qr_UEdev7re0we2-wLbT4KpiKxxussFK02_h263QrDKpclbYP730nAHoyKTWODEUztO34FecK2jbOwfU5VYBdZDddps/s4096/IMG_20231218_015844001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBfdOO1T6cK-dbCvaL6ea3xOhHPNmxp2y13KLAxPhOZLUALB7NrBHZwL8o9B_Qlr7fjMHEi74csA9YwQbCrRXc2g0wcavoaMUh7Qr_UEdev7re0we2-wLbT4KpiKxxussFK02_h263QrDKpclbYP730nAHoyKTWODEUztO34FecK2jbOwfU5VYBdZDddps/s320/IMG_20231218_015844001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I really should start buying the eggs that you pour out of a carton instead of getting them in the shell. Then I could easily get out a tiny measuring spoon and dispense precisely two sevenths of an egg if I wanted.
<p></p><p>
The recipe went along just fine until the time came to add the flour. I watched and re-watched that part multiple times just to confirm, and they just dumped the flour in all at once. A bit of onscreen mixing yielded something like brown Play-Doh. And so, armed with the confidence that I was following along exactly with the video, I tipped the entire bowl of (pre-measured) flour right into the mixer. Our dough turned to sand.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_qQyjask7hp3h3rptRcz7ct7BAi-FkfE0_lU5b60nH-DMEzimlYN9eOo7B1PD5oupR5rouSY4ve46GgSatj5MmCKHKWqhKJU10a-ZbeY75qtCevB1M956Wp4-J8P2eyy-HBZr-vfJK4jm5oc6uV47vaybmP-QFKc1XWUr4PnaHt0yVS0Di5qoFU8akaB/s4096/IMG_20231218_230007744.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_qQyjask7hp3h3rptRcz7ct7BAi-FkfE0_lU5b60nH-DMEzimlYN9eOo7B1PD5oupR5rouSY4ve46GgSatj5MmCKHKWqhKJU10a-ZbeY75qtCevB1M956Wp4-J8P2eyy-HBZr-vfJK4jm5oc6uV47vaybmP-QFKc1XWUr4PnaHt0yVS0Di5qoFU8akaB/s320/IMG_20231218_230007744.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />I should have waited a little bit longer to make these. When we got the same cookie-sand on our previous ijzerkoekje attempt, <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/12/cinnamon-wafers-or-getting-to-know-our.html?showComment=1703206672478#c1477066336519935114" target="_blank">Lace Maker commented that</a> "Thanks to a little googling I found that European flour is made from soft wheat which has a lower gluten content. Lower gluten flour absorbs less water...." <br /></p><p>In other words, the recipe was correct. My measurements were correct. But the American flour dried up our cookie dough a lot more than a European flour would have. The recipe I grabbed from Wikipedia calls for "if possible the Zeeland type of flour, i.e. flour from wheat grown in an oceanic climate zone." I had dismissed that note as unnecessary ingredient snobbery, and apparently I was wrong to do so. </p><p>Unfortunately, Lace Maker's comment arrived after I had already made these again. So instead of making this recipe forearmed with the knowledge of regional differences in ingredients, I had to add little spoonfuls of milk until the dough looked like what they had in the video. All was well in the end, but it took a while to get there.<br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimdnbe5iFVtM06T_t8toimpyOW7o6ARdg8sl9oblozwUIgy9tNPDOeWieemdmgDh-SRS2HyrcrwJKEE6INiWJIDnquKOJyZ-a_2j0ShnXUKewlEMKnxHQscifydXvc5NH5bidUsYhalYyj_FSrVwssxu_MRRF1xsuRVsTJsSgfkRGO1DN8g5NmjdCWpYW/s4096/IMG_20231218_231400216.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimdnbe5iFVtM06T_t8toimpyOW7o6ARdg8sl9oblozwUIgy9tNPDOeWieemdmgDh-SRS2HyrcrwJKEE6INiWJIDnquKOJyZ-a_2j0ShnXUKewlEMKnxHQscifydXvc5NH5bidUsYhalYyj_FSrVwssxu_MRRF1xsuRVsTJsSgfkRGO1DN8g5NmjdCWpYW/s320/IMG_20231218_231400216.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At this point, we get to the part of the recipe that this semi-ignorant American <i>really</i> got wrong: cooking these. You don't just put them into a waffle iron and shut the lid. You do them on a stovetop (or a griddle). Imagine a waffle iron, but one that only has shallow lines cut into it (like the ones on ice cream cones). Now remove the top half of it, leaving you with a griddle that has a grid etched in it. <p></p><p>Since I have no such thing, I decided to put these onto the Norwegian iron. While our cookware is from the wrong country, it's always nice to use what's already at hand. And so, I put the iron onto the stove with the lid open, treating it like a frying pan that is in constant danger of tipping backwards.<br /></p><p>
We then put our first cookie on, and after a few minutes flipped it and saw that it would soon hit the trash.
</p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcxhBABGt4-meNMUE853yEhV3wX3wf5E1Sp-srDO5JKcDuuQJeiwFWmz777h_vLJMJseAjzBG84O1UWt_pK_CmCT0B-WVD9TMk6KjV6kCzcIhDAQXd9uo3dDJ5uxZZf9xK8LT8akZFQDZYa0QOxBbJM2mmhC5QzqPPq2zil9wCUfLqSqM4xkyuGYOtL0O/s3184/IMG_20230128_195331350.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2547" data-original-width="3184" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcxhBABGt4-meNMUE853yEhV3wX3wf5E1Sp-srDO5JKcDuuQJeiwFWmz777h_vLJMJseAjzBG84O1UWt_pK_CmCT0B-WVD9TMk6KjV6kCzcIhDAQXd9uo3dDJ5uxZZf9xK8LT8akZFQDZYa0QOxBbJM2mmhC5QzqPPq2zil9wCUfLqSqM4xkyuGYOtL0O/s320/IMG_20230128_195331350.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />When I cracked it open, it was still raw and melted in the middle.
<p></p><p>
We tried a few more cookies "the authentic way," but they were no better than the first. Eventually I decided that I would not waste all of this dough trying not to burn it. Instead, I put the rest of it on the wafer iron <i>and closed it </i>like I had been doing all along. I also put some on the pizzelle iron. I love how sparkly they looked. We may be making these cookies wrong, but rarely has wrong worked so well.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0cDck6JVo99qvGeYN4JQyrytshUyp4DYMzO1Y8teE4iT45norNNWkW3cPNMA3CYQNC9JGKx3Cqiall39u3ByYh4f5FOhC5-RQal_aix_WNRwOnwG5GJsTYb7QKUhYtwyAE_PjAPNnAWR2OC97k8qedV5ke0vIJsKugi1JwJrHrwCWtdsauz3H3r2I66z4/s4096/IMG_20231211_004757640.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0cDck6JVo99qvGeYN4JQyrytshUyp4DYMzO1Y8teE4iT45norNNWkW3cPNMA3CYQNC9JGKx3Cqiall39u3ByYh4f5FOhC5-RQal_aix_WNRwOnwG5GJsTYb7QKUhYtwyAE_PjAPNnAWR2OC97k8qedV5ke0vIJsKugi1JwJrHrwCWtdsauz3H3r2I66z4/s320/IMG_20231211_004757640.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But I couldn't stop thinking about our failure to get these cookies right. And so, I rewatched that charming video again. I had previously skipped over the parts where they were chatting without doing anything. What's the point of watching people talk when you don't understand a word? But I figured that I might be able to get a small bit of advice out of their conversation as delivered by voice-recognition and auto-translation. Among the half-finished phrases, the captions managed to find several repeated mentions of "patience" and also "or else they will be black."
<p></p><p>
I also did a little bit of poking around on the internet. Of course, every page I found about ijzerkoekjes (except for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IJzerkoekje" target="_blank">the Wikipedia article</a>) was in Dutch. But, after carefully keeping in mind that automatic translation is a technological miracle but also fallible, we managed to figure out that you're not actually supposed to cook these all the way through. Instead, they should be golden on the outside but doughy in the middle. (This is the perfect place to note that I like cookie dough more than cookies.)
</p><p>
We also found out that these come with a <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfL1bh7th5OBXK48ZvYrDbHRezWp7n5RYNl8Tyy02tPjyQKD_6-ohZylRecafKans6Cq3-bKrEfrwsNpdfc7EfgCPwQLcLv4MvuBxjOJVLwqinNi4XOQqbcgs6Ley-w_3xJtgdQdyIlKVicpE9ImHTnEUBN5druumOZEt8eKwqrgKwIIQ05lnkRigXoeb/s583/ijzercutter.png" target="_blank">traditionally-shaped cookie cutter</a> that I don't have. But I also don't have the correct kind of stovetop iron. We decided to make ijzerkoekjes again anyway.
</p><p>
When those nice-looking people in that video talked about having patience, they meant it. If you turn the stove up hotter than a simmer, the cookies will become charcoal-encrusted dough. And so, I turned the burner as low as it got. I didn't know if I was cooking these or merely warming them up.
</p>
<p> Given the long, slow cooking time, I have to speculate that these made more sense before we had modern gas and electric stoves. Putting these over a low burner for so long seems very odd. But I can easily imagine setting a waffle iron on one of the colder parts of a cast-iron stovetop while cooking everything else. Or, in the pre-stove days, people may have put a cookie-loaded waffle iron in the corner of the kitchen fireplace while the rest of the food was in progress.</p>
<p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvueH-JfrhClWE_0ilLUWpC9yC5KEy2-lPJcbh9yoZ2k8beNNg3MhFx792lYYu-M0AWdGLq35q0bDpcXy4x7dG5AVGzeJn8WAUtiiFRTGrlMsTH7uO35_WMXu-K-c60vD9Yzpe8GHV4rM1kF1rgkFcoIh926OyR1InBHlvQ6X-syHllhdsrngIGqtzG8rD/s3358/IMG_20231219_001350809.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2686" data-original-width="3358" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvueH-JfrhClWE_0ilLUWpC9yC5KEy2-lPJcbh9yoZ2k8beNNg3MhFx792lYYu-M0AWdGLq35q0bDpcXy4x7dG5AVGzeJn8WAUtiiFRTGrlMsTH7uO35_WMXu-K-c60vD9Yzpe8GHV4rM1kF1rgkFcoIh926OyR1InBHlvQ6X-syHllhdsrngIGqtzG8rD/s320/IMG_20231219_001350809.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<!--<span id="mintcake"><p>While we were waiting, I decided to use one of the quarter eggs to try something I've wondered about in the back of my head: mint cakes. It's been bothering me ever since my most recent batch of <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/12/mint-chocolate-fudge-or-revisiting-my.html" target="_blank">mint chocolate fudge</a>. I only ever use the mint extract for mint-chocolate fudge, and it struck me as ridiculous to have a bottle of extract that only exists for one recipe. I know there a lot of minty recipes out there, but I wanted to know what happens when you dump mint extract into an otherwise plain yellow cake. And so, I made a tiny 1234 cake, dumped in a tiny splash of mint extract, and put it in the oven alongside dinner. It reminded me of that odd video trend a few years ago of people cooking tiny-sized foods, usually in doll-sized kitchens with working stoves.
</p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTz8KGPRoz3i596LzZI6vQh4Qo51N7RdmFho_0U03sZp-jSiXN1PNLn2Z7UzwU3wEtwvXyXdACpUvL4EfC5Odso_HlCtaoOvDaVElGbVcFNNUs-qbuFR0RAc-htMSabFX2HokT0NtxNgBIRWkJDrbW6-Z_6a9JgrWdzrHp8lJOE3mQ_B1hgD3Ic19jnZE4/s4096/IMG_20231223_005643174.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTz8KGPRoz3i596LzZI6vQh4Qo51N7RdmFho_0U03sZp-jSiXN1PNLn2Z7UzwU3wEtwvXyXdACpUvL4EfC5Odso_HlCtaoOvDaVElGbVcFNNUs-qbuFR0RAc-htMSabFX2HokT0NtxNgBIRWkJDrbW6-Z_6a9JgrWdzrHp8lJOE3mQ_B1hgD3Ic19jnZE4/s320/IMG_20231223_005643174.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As often happens when I slip a small thing into an oven that already contains food, the rest of dinner was ready before the cake. So although the oven was respectably well-filled for most of the baking time, the last few minutes looked like this.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YY1qvqx3b93tr0aRAZ68I8Sl8thVkMKG9CZLBWPI3XNvwmOBZfgI9GB9ekRJn4UAOmc3hMU9tIrHnQCTqouqX39ESd_oWoT3Zni-DOLNhxpyAgDfn0IBFKqyF8JUF2P12zEYmeFlLWfMiE0sAmvNO9p7DEOs3dUl-k7RBFfULcG4_fBf7K1-j0HkH2lV/s4096/IMG_20231223_012221855.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YY1qvqx3b93tr0aRAZ68I8Sl8thVkMKG9CZLBWPI3XNvwmOBZfgI9GB9ekRJn4UAOmc3hMU9tIrHnQCTqouqX39ESd_oWoT3Zni-DOLNhxpyAgDfn0IBFKqyF8JUF2P12zEYmeFlLWfMiE0sAmvNO9p7DEOs3dUl-k7RBFfULcG4_fBf7K1-j0HkH2lV/s320/IMG_20231223_012221855.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I'm surprised to say this, but mint and butter go together unexpectedly well. I kind of wished I'd made a somewhat larger mint cake, even though we already had cookies on top of the stove. Obviously, you'd have to be careful who you serve this to (some people can't abide anything unusual in a yellow cake), but I think it's worth trying. Of course, you may not want to commit an entire cake's worth of ingredients to minty experimentation. Perhaps if you're making cupcakes, you can wait until you have almost all of the batter poured out and then add a little bit of mint extract to what remains in the bowl.
<p></p>
</span>-->
<p>
After carefully lifting up one of the cookies, we found it had indeed turned a lovely color underneath. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtTFgVNLvNeJRKmDA50Vq8rKq7V6y3_F1XFdI2UN2ZgiYjjEXVioK9TkCyKz4o16_JVldnRNkgAVKeYU82PfRoXoUKhv-1iV1m7Yh7-H5tEt2CUCNJyW_s6l-vFedT_PLU4J0t9D4g9Z2Vox8LlrrRNqWN5WDGYyhTsvnmQuiF3f9YwcXE7ootKzaosY5/s4096/IMG_20231219_002016877.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtTFgVNLvNeJRKmDA50Vq8rKq7V6y3_F1XFdI2UN2ZgiYjjEXVioK9TkCyKz4o16_JVldnRNkgAVKeYU82PfRoXoUKhv-1iV1m7Yh7-H5tEt2CUCNJyW_s6l-vFedT_PLU4J0t9D4g9Z2Vox8LlrrRNqWN5WDGYyhTsvnmQuiF3f9YwcXE7ootKzaosY5/s320/IMG_20231219_002016877.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Things were looking promising enough to flip them over and cook the other side instead of throwing them out with the other failures. (By this point, the trash can contained a lot of burnt cookie dough.) I can't guarantee that these cookies came out the way they do in the Netherlands, but they certainly looked successful. <p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgha2m4Z7pre5386PkLaTVAX7dtrDecMIHxHFHz74BdOQ6E05tOlQNimIgkqNjvlkRdCY07M3Ez9CUO213dYhk6To__cGz_wLPXFyqSmnMZKDwhHCilO-qdYRsqRx5aGKrQl0IX356ha8HsYFuoZ8Xu37JcerKyCpN7srtq_uCzH5A2eBZMXqZ47t36Rwc/s4096/IMG_20231219_002825656.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgha2m4Z7pre5386PkLaTVAX7dtrDecMIHxHFHz74BdOQ6E05tOlQNimIgkqNjvlkRdCY07M3Ez9CUO213dYhk6To__cGz_wLPXFyqSmnMZKDwhHCilO-qdYRsqRx5aGKrQl0IX356ha8HsYFuoZ8Xu37JcerKyCpN7srtq_uCzH5A2eBZMXqZ47t36Rwc/s320/IMG_20231219_002825656.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />With that said, I hate to give a recipe that demands special-order kitchen supplies. And so, I got out a griddle and put a few cookies on it. I saw no reason this wouldn't work, but wanted to make very sure before telling other people to try it for themselves. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSX2gc75nmtBKpfOtlJ9fIP8y1zdkSuByYkd1HtMhV2GmOj6ccDtZaI7tfEwyUa_7exl5IS4C_mkgOCeh94N7tt8wqbZDywtP5940rCHKvrPaCR1PRjoyvz86GMCcN1mY1MIAhP7Q2RsTujvf_PxvWN64w94OdFvsUR81Lp_9KWYJ9xmaGWOiO0Gh8oir2/s4096/IMG_20231211_004618910.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSX2gc75nmtBKpfOtlJ9fIP8y1zdkSuByYkd1HtMhV2GmOj6ccDtZaI7tfEwyUa_7exl5IS4C_mkgOCeh94N7tt8wqbZDywtP5940rCHKvrPaCR1PRjoyvz86GMCcN1mY1MIAhP7Q2RsTujvf_PxvWN64w94OdFvsUR81Lp_9KWYJ9xmaGWOiO0Gh8oir2/s320/IMG_20231211_004618910.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Since the cookies didn't have any waffle-ridges, they didn't have as much of a crispy outer surface area. But that is a tiny nitpick that is not worth bothering with. Obviously, ijzerkoekjes cooked on a frying pan aren't "authentic," but anyone who complains has already made up their snobby mind.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG__FIWHsPmGNk3GqnZ9BhFEp3Q4lqR06gdHN8oG2niipoe6FnDPkIKCNbYE6XL8zsQuVPozkUmgIPcpGfR7aQHs9iVlHcnT_GR2Siqbh-7S9rAq1I763PX-BEyw6m_r6ZVnO9OppsiYP9CxKujgXOOobjCbhBSmA5mo49xmGsBY_8zpQB_PjD6b14gp6S/s4096/IMG_20231211_010500274.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG__FIWHsPmGNk3GqnZ9BhFEp3Q4lqR06gdHN8oG2niipoe6FnDPkIKCNbYE6XL8zsQuVPozkUmgIPcpGfR7aQHs9iVlHcnT_GR2Siqbh-7S9rAq1I763PX-BEyw6m_r6ZVnO9OppsiYP9CxKujgXOOobjCbhBSmA5mo49xmGsBY_8zpQB_PjD6b14gp6S/s320/IMG_20231211_010500274.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But having made the cookies (somewhat) like they do in their home country, how do they taste?
<p></p><p>
They are cinnamon-y, buttery bliss. I was furious at how many times I have scraped half-burnt cookie dough off the wafer iron when the easy (and correct) way was so much better. I would have never thought of making stovetop cookies, but these are fantastic. As they cool off, the carryover heat gets to the center and firms them up just a little bit.
They turn into something halfway between cookie dough and brownies. <br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMuFRXtVmnhy3KanlKp01ZOu18G2BorOdbwtwVk4oK-06pB3M7Wa9D70lu8Fv26V2IP6ZmoOKm5Zsy5M1XaBc64O7R7EUslXp90lCTKLI1AkpkQgHQROyNBiXSkLpU58u_HPhZWBmlq67FbvwK7zZiicPD_gKa58dGQbM84bCqg3m-xOg8hJzFa0B0Xwp/s4096/IMG_20231219_003744801.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMuFRXtVmnhy3KanlKp01ZOu18G2BorOdbwtwVk4oK-06pB3M7Wa9D70lu8Fv26V2IP6ZmoOKm5Zsy5M1XaBc64O7R7EUslXp90lCTKLI1AkpkQgHQROyNBiXSkLpU58u_HPhZWBmlq67FbvwK7zZiicPD_gKa58dGQbM84bCqg3m-xOg8hJzFa0B0Xwp/s320/IMG_20231219_003744801.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I almost want to say these are ideal for summer when you don't want to fire up the oven. But they're so deliriously rich that I think they're better when it's cold out. And if you have the patience to wait for them to cook over almost maddeningly low heat (or if you just let them sit in the background while you do other things), they are well worth the wait. And if you have the dough already rolled and cut out, it'd be relatively easy to put these on the back burner and let them cook in the background while you make other things.<br /><p></p><p>I will leave off with a quick aid for anyone who wants to make these <i>and</i> tell people what they're called. For those who, like me, don't speak a word of Dutch, here is Google
Translate showing us how to pronounce the name of today's recipe. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxbwHURrGat3DBaPHRS5_RJ3fvJeQOEubrGyZ3KpYCgM11pfRbsQKeHvCUrcBWguajw_vkFXXCxGIT_Q13tEA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-24550929359209201072023-12-31T05:55:00.000-08:002024-01-12T00:14:42.978-08:00Attempted Chocolate Pizzelles: or, Vexatious success pays off with dinosaurs<p>Some things, no matter how delicious, should never go on a pizzelle iron.</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td>
<b>Chocolate Waffle Iron Cookies</b><br />
1½ c sugar<br />1 c butter<br />4 eggs<br />2 c flour<br />½ c cocoa<br />2 tsp vanilla<br /><br />
Cream sugar and cocoa with butter, beating until light. Beat in eggs and vanilla, using your electric mixer to keep beating until it's whipped. Add flour, stirring just until mixed. <br />Drop by spoonful onto a <i>very</i> well-greased waffle iron and bake until done. They will be too fragile to lift out off of the waffle iron. Instead, place a plate under the waffle iron and tip it until they fall out. You may need to give them a starting nudge with a fork to release them after you have the waffle iron tipped upright. Frost (I made a thin glaze and just poured it over). <br />They are better on the second day. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Source:</i> Marti Patter, <i>Police Potpourri,</i> Cedar Rapids (Iowa) State Policeman's Association Auxiliary, 1977</span></div></td></tr><tr><td><b>Vanilla Glaze</b><br />
2 tbsp butter<br />
4 tsp hot water<br />
2 tsp vanilla or so<br />
1 c powdered sugar<br />
<br />
Melt butter, add hot water. Stir in vanilla,
then add powdered sugar. Whisk until smooth. If you have one of those glass measuring cups with a pour spout, you can easily mix this in the cup and then pour it out on all the cookies.<!--Cream 1.5 c. sugar with 1 c. butter. Beat in 4 eggs. Add 2 c. flour, 1/2 c. cocoa, 2 tsp. vanilla. Beat well. Drop by spoonful onto waffle iron and bake till done. Frost. The recipe notes they are better on the second day.-->
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>After a surprising run of success with our pizzelle iron, I thought it might be nice to branch out a bit. Also, it might be fun to get chocolate involved. And so, we decided to make the waffle iron cookies that Lace Maker sent to us a while ago. They were so delicious and so easy (albeit a little tricky to get off the iron). </p><p>But this time, I wanted to make <i>pretty</i> waffle iron cookies. Also, I wanted to play with my new pizzelle iron. I told myself that a pizzelle is basically a waffle. And a waffle iron is a waffle iron, whether it has pretty flowers or a grid of squares. The recipe should feel right at home cooking in one... or so I believed.<br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4w2sIB7953Dg0OdMQsh6Og9aQ0QYGwVLaFTX-uBuk7zgvidPuCkoQozcGon2_6DPda-1Dwm1TrxyRNc3Ad_BjXVOmcOwWDDlipnHW7c93pIg_myukKuvBSTWNoAH9qAelD-5pbElKd8K79W6dbP_z91nS-UO5TTXlHAvhueBrcBzDqucb_OO0iFRBKpTi/s4096/IMG_20231222_004748946.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4w2sIB7953Dg0OdMQsh6Og9aQ0QYGwVLaFTX-uBuk7zgvidPuCkoQozcGon2_6DPda-1Dwm1TrxyRNc3Ad_BjXVOmcOwWDDlipnHW7c93pIg_myukKuvBSTWNoAH9qAelD-5pbElKd8K79W6dbP_z91nS-UO5TTXlHAvhueBrcBzDqucb_OO0iFRBKpTi/s320/IMG_20231222_004748946.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And so, I mixed the batter. I then put so much cooking spray onto the iron that I could have used it as a candle. I then put about the same amount of batter that has generally been right for this iron. The moment I closed it, a hot mess sputtered out on all sides.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSEZfC7Crujpwr9UTl1lw_rx4qnVdiNpgCSTSX1gxEgX-cGH-mYk_M_h7f2fbihwQOQz9prWvp-KIwtsnTrljEmAIMDNWrx2po_3eZ_ddSz7R_oBCUoSoNFSRVUP8LkQi8__bsPI23KGKOIuz4BD2b9zMcoLoaZxRWiMiCyKJ_hWbqFGM-uLBf_CV3xa8R/s4096/IMG_20231222_004808636.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSEZfC7Crujpwr9UTl1lw_rx4qnVdiNpgCSTSX1gxEgX-cGH-mYk_M_h7f2fbihwQOQz9prWvp-KIwtsnTrljEmAIMDNWrx2po_3eZ_ddSz7R_oBCUoSoNFSRVUP8LkQi8__bsPI23KGKOIuz4BD2b9zMcoLoaZxRWiMiCyKJ_hWbqFGM-uLBf_CV3xa8R/s320/IMG_20231222_004808636.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />On the bright side, the batter leaked out of the iron before I had the chance to get it onto the stove burner. After holding the iron over the trash can and scraping off the molten cookie dough, I put it on the stove and let it cook. Upon opening the iron, I found... this.<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_8ci4-0YzKzQxJeCM9QbpaRmA_sYd1O6_OFyjwce4fOvOUDx-rAWgvSiOZfr1xiqqQMP__0bLnEScrjCMxbxrD5exkbebLxb1qJwgS28ETDJiokBOJxZmTD2pO3HjMxYcLSFedKsPwchwRSkHAJw9eX_gjK9mWW1CGwrbwrmtS-9ae3QdyKSFt8eqmm6/s3686/IMG_20231222_004952917.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3686" data-original-width="2764" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_8ci4-0YzKzQxJeCM9QbpaRmA_sYd1O6_OFyjwce4fOvOUDx-rAWgvSiOZfr1xiqqQMP__0bLnEScrjCMxbxrD5exkbebLxb1qJwgS28ETDJiokBOJxZmTD2pO3HjMxYcLSFedKsPwchwRSkHAJw9eX_gjK9mWW1CGwrbwrmtS-9ae3QdyKSFt8eqmm6/s320/IMG_20231222_004952917.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />At this point, I could have gotten out the normal waffle iron and cooked the rest of our cookie dough in it. After all, <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2021/05/waffle-iron-cookies-or-reader-recipes.html" target="_blank">that worked perfectly last time</a>. Furthermore, the recipe's title tells us to use a waffle iron. But while I do have the occasional spurt of intelligence, I also have ill-timed flareups of stubbornness. This was now a challenge.
<p></p><p>
For our next attempt, I used less batter. I also kind of hover-held the top of the iron so that it couldn't squeeze our cookie to death. We sort of succeeded here, even though the cookie looks like a random smudge of batter that landed on the waffle iron.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIenvjSol0azmBxd9C3irxV2jt2ExSjpep9tcNJiX_GR2j629fPWE3cAR7bvEoP5R3Wm1qRXPJjLVV7l1zKZqQyI13pe9cyuqBjGKoAf6Y5LKhsfRnAhgQybxx2uFTGoRAPJI5zTkCFynAdq7ytn8mkGUIIy9piR2srL_XXtJDuuD3VlvD4BD5ikzJHu9V/s4096/IMG_20231222_005655035.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIenvjSol0azmBxd9C3irxV2jt2ExSjpep9tcNJiX_GR2j629fPWE3cAR7bvEoP5R3Wm1qRXPJjLVV7l1zKZqQyI13pe9cyuqBjGKoAf6Y5LKhsfRnAhgQybxx2uFTGoRAPJI5zTkCFynAdq7ytn8mkGUIIy9piR2srL_XXtJDuuD3VlvD4BD5ikzJHu9V/s320/IMG_20231222_005655035.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Because I was too lazy to get out a timer, I was following the instructions I got over the phone from Fante's kitchen to say one Hail Mary per side. I don't know if I was timing the cookies or if I was praying for them to let go of the pizzelle iron.
<p></p><p>
Whether by divine intervention or by improving with experience, our cookies were slowly but steadily improving. But producing intact cookies on a pizzelle iron was an irksome process. I couldn't let go of the iron while we were cooking them. To prevent the iron from pressing all the batter out like it did the first time, I had to place one finger pressed between the wooden handles to keep them ever-so-slightly spread apart. (Is this why the iron has wooden handles to begin with?) Granted, when you have to flip the iron every thirty seconds under the best conditions, you don't exactly have a lot of leisure time while you wait. But I have never been so pinned to the stove. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-ytg8Pp6bJ16QPyewA_626dinUMRNLph9bhEHpUxFlDOwdEHGtxiOgHVooIcJM4RERFXPOc7MAJdyRCE66qx6xo3FgsYJacI0olSyFu6oU3duSkYIajzGUt3vrTttW3T7VLW0IXupwFn6FvaKBuwsDPGCJWhrHlb9UX1k2-081aluyTbOKH9VdvbsJVm/s3690/IMG_20231222_010340576.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2767" data-original-width="3690" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-ytg8Pp6bJ16QPyewA_626dinUMRNLph9bhEHpUxFlDOwdEHGtxiOgHVooIcJM4RERFXPOc7MAJdyRCE66qx6xo3FgsYJacI0olSyFu6oU3duSkYIajzGUt3vrTttW3T7VLW0IXupwFn6FvaKBuwsDPGCJWhrHlb9UX1k2-081aluyTbOKH9VdvbsJVm/s320/IMG_20231222_010340576.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Really, I brought this on myself. Marti Platter, whose name appears
under the recipe in the original book, used a normal waffle iron. When I followed her
directions, our cookies were so much easier (and delicious enough to save the recipe). Furthermore, I knew exactly
where I had stored the waffle iron after the last time we used it. But
for reasons not even known to myself, I persisted with pizzelles. <br /><p></p><p>
After we got a few cookies in, the first one had cooled off. And so, with my one free hand that wasn't caught in a pizzelle iron, I tasted it. </p><p>I was so mad at how good it came out. The outside was almost unnaturally crispy, and the inside was practically fudge. Imagine a cookie made entirely out of the corner piece of the brownie pan. I was hoping it would be terrible, so I could forget the whole enterprise. Unfortunately, they were too good to stop making them. (Reminder: I brought this on myself.)
</p><p>
After making enough of these cookies, I started to get a feel for how much batter would fill the iron without oozing out of it. I was so pleased the first time I got it nearly exactly right.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4HbcPh4tlOcyszByOFk4vZGdiZMZhL5ngfHjBuP_RtxNbMzcgbquO_fOm8pPQLhBDhT6jBQVuHlXBP8WRCyRcbdBbs1brKxhyphenhyphen_xQBUnePtesGZ5qQvxfaFY3kOvI8iuOnlve3iCGg21h1lq4PvnSO424kH3gIWBP_V6HKTncFftFtj07ZkbjBQU6opDS/s4096/IMG_20231222_010813401.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4HbcPh4tlOcyszByOFk4vZGdiZMZhL5ngfHjBuP_RtxNbMzcgbquO_fOm8pPQLhBDhT6jBQVuHlXBP8WRCyRcbdBbs1brKxhyphenhyphen_xQBUnePtesGZ5qQvxfaFY3kOvI8iuOnlve3iCGg21h1lq4PvnSO424kH3gIWBP_V6HKTncFftFtj07ZkbjBQU6opDS/s320/IMG_20231222_010813401.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After a few more of these, I made the perfect pizzelle. It filled the iron from edge to well-sprayed edge. It was exquisite. It was perfection. It was <i>so</i> not worth it.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA7CKuScvDVTcWqGZEcRdZNQkdnbqaEInEOKABUBLBbsfOWKAJX56-HvNDZPADi3IKRUr3Cpq62rj17GrO4Kslg4l1WK3hKpEXLaDKddqSosdhfSL3VoQbs5U5Q2r1SIc_ZauQ02MVcrP97YFk10J6QgaYSznxNVwG4z4SqYBh02VQZui9pr-JLaI5ngtr/s3327/IMG_20231222_011023002.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2495" data-original-width="3327" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA7CKuScvDVTcWqGZEcRdZNQkdnbqaEInEOKABUBLBbsfOWKAJX56-HvNDZPADi3IKRUr3Cpq62rj17GrO4Kslg4l1WK3hKpEXLaDKddqSosdhfSL3VoQbs5U5Q2r1SIc_ZauQ02MVcrP97YFk10J6QgaYSznxNVwG4z4SqYBh02VQZui9pr-JLaI5ngtr/s320/IMG_20231222_011023002.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />All good things must come to an end, whether they're bad ideas or not. We soon reached the end of the batter. As often happens, our final cookie was a runty one made of all the spatula-scrapings we could get off the bowl. In this way, our chocolate pizzelle cookies made a perfect cycle-- from too-small cookies, to perfection, and back to puny cookies at the end. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWW0XbT0MBO1zPhYpkLrzyyHSHdOE0VNTRNsJg_0oK_XXeJRHyrDXjd8NkmNk76e-H_RW-z6fZOS0c5tetJOhgrhtNkEPuzBdFB036eKHx5C1qUub32BqOQnA7axrJteP77ygEYXDn4f6Tqzrs5vgdUOrseysKBhpmTcFljySACrrxW3FP6mmqmVBSNPyf/s4096/IMG_20231222_011515826.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWW0XbT0MBO1zPhYpkLrzyyHSHdOE0VNTRNsJg_0oK_XXeJRHyrDXjd8NkmNk76e-H_RW-z6fZOS0c5tetJOhgrhtNkEPuzBdFB036eKHx5C1qUub32BqOQnA7axrJteP77ygEYXDn4f6Tqzrs5vgdUOrseysKBhpmTcFljySACrrxW3FP6mmqmVBSNPyf/s320/IMG_20231222_011515826.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As soon as someone tried one, he said "Uh, you're going to do these again, right?"
<p></p><p>
I said "NO!"
</p><p>
Then I gave it some thought and added "At least, not on this iron."
</p><p>
If you see this and want chocolate pizzelles, there are plenty of recipes out there for them that will grant your wish with greater ease. Or, if you think this recipe looks so good (and it is), you can avoid all this trouble if you use a normal waffle iron. Sometimes, following the directions is the best way. But I have to admit, this was so much more photogenic.<br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWofc0s7X1H-GUBXb0H2e4QTATKpuhJOSayQsBNgqrzi0R1k8MAl6AK49HjSGw916KtOVl04QYEw9YsjY7s5MAePqXQp8qYoxPLrrRiyJUO7lYzkuGbz3guOoJGze5BzfKAlKwerwCJJ0qami-YZDAmRDSxzBqp2c92AuhM1NtRt6dD5pO8WgQXAHXLbU/s4096/IMG_20231222_011715377.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWofc0s7X1H-GUBXb0H2e4QTATKpuhJOSayQsBNgqrzi0R1k8MAl6AK49HjSGw916KtOVl04QYEw9YsjY7s5MAePqXQp8qYoxPLrrRiyJUO7lYzkuGbz3guOoJGze5BzfKAlKwerwCJJ0qami-YZDAmRDSxzBqp2c92AuhM1NtRt6dD5pO8WgQXAHXLbU/s320/IMG_20231222_011715377.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But the cookies looked pretty (well, some of them) and tasted delicious. I wrapped the good ones in one of my special cookie-giving containers for our neighbors up the street who have once again <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/12/happy-boxing-day-eve-from-book-of.html" target="_blank">put a twelve-foot Christmas skeleton in their yard</a>. This year, Al CaBone (that's his name) is joined by an even taller skeleton with pumpkin head. The neighbors weren't home at the time, so I awkwardly stuffed the cookies in their mailbox and hoped they weren't gone for two weeks or something.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnC5z270ar2kg34S_l0ElHdmp1PGww77i4iRulofsRuylu7T2CpL3dQ95AWV9h4D_ehXzsXhB8-X0k38jbTRiNLs3ulL2moE98diyCoo132ByeagBmG8FK875Tf03dUAx6aAZ3uMz_Q0Tf51zc8gkaFwiYfZIk9guZhy-U1zZLX6IPaxnZmVYcixzqXXA7/s4096/IMG_20231222_035308748.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnC5z270ar2kg34S_l0ElHdmp1PGww77i4iRulofsRuylu7T2CpL3dQ95AWV9h4D_ehXzsXhB8-X0k38jbTRiNLs3ulL2moE98diyCoo132ByeagBmG8FK875Tf03dUAx6aAZ3uMz_Q0Tf51zc8gkaFwiYfZIk9guZhy-U1zZLX6IPaxnZmVYcixzqXXA7/s320/IMG_20231222_035308748.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I may seem like a cheapskate to give away cookies in a bag on a paper plate, but I consider it part of the gift. Not only are we letting people have cookies, we also liberate them from any guilt over whether they should bring the container back.
<p></p><p>
I was originally going to write that for all our frustration (and the time we spent gouging out pieces of burnt-batter), today's ill-advised adventure at least had a happy ending because chocolate was involved. But things ended even better than I thought. A few days after leaving a batch of cookies at Al CaBone's house, we found this on the porch. The note in the card said "We thought you Al's pet dino could brighten your home! He doesn't eat much but he's fun to play with."
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi556E6fK-XHWyWIFh-02H0t6wzcoCH43fbjovxeWzaXNUJ09icOplFjFGH004ChDzMskRQLUlYx-y03Z8H_wdb6V_FmHbxJpEcj97sZUAOP_detSkQLpXYTi8Er0xhcFsFtW4CXXFIRNQY6wUozETxIr6iokv39B6Rgy0f1OIxbiuWHL2DInZLmbmq8RbB/s4096/IMG_20231223_161310770.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi556E6fK-XHWyWIFh-02H0t6wzcoCH43fbjovxeWzaXNUJ09icOplFjFGH004ChDzMskRQLUlYx-y03Z8H_wdb6V_FmHbxJpEcj97sZUAOP_detSkQLpXYTi8Er0xhcFsFtW4CXXFIRNQY6wUozETxIr6iokv39B6Rgy0f1OIxbiuWHL2DInZLmbmq8RbB/s320/IMG_20231223_161310770.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p> Never underestimate pizzelles.
</p>
S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-37319162231588357892023-12-30T10:10:00.000-08:002024-01-02T12:06:29.708-08:00Peanut Butter Blossoms: or, The most psychologically powerful cookies I've found<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijOxeTxY7_gYQGxoVdqS-8Si8bfDznEbuMcgxSPJ9vUSwElOPKDKRnY8vQXcC7l1nZPK2eWVy925Qu2QopoO525c8CHXYzQQqsE3huRcRXkasi1rmI94GovChIc49Vii1Nqtw16KEz_qUXMTjZKoJqky7InBagyN6Gsew2mF2-yZ96CFmL3oJfsclrCEYt/s3412/IMG_20230202_225809585.jpg" style="display:none;">I wasn't going to write about these at all, but they had an astonishing power over anyone who came within smelling range.<p></p><table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Peanut Butter Blossoms</b><br />
½ cup white sugar<br />
½ cup butter, softened<br />
½ cup packed brown sugar<br />
½ cup creamy peanut butter<br />
¾ tsp baking soda<br />
½ tsp baking powder<br />
1 egg<br />
1½ cups flour<br />
Additional sugar for rolling<br />
About 36 Hershey's Kisses, unwrapped<br />
<br />
Heat oven to 375°F. Have cookie sheets ready (lined with parchment paper if desired).<br />
In large bowl, thoroughly cream the butter and white sugar. Beat in the brown sugar, peanut butter, baking soda, and baking powder. Add the egg, beat until light. Stir in the flour. If the dough is sticky, add a little more flour.<br />
Shape dough into 1-inch balls; roll in additional granulated sugar. On ungreased cookie sheets, place about 2 inches apart.<br />
Bake 8 to 10 minutes, or until edges are light golden brown. When you remove them from the oven, <i>immediately</i> press a chocolate into the center of each cookie. Remove from cookie sheets to cooling rack.
<br /><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Source: <a href="https://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/classic-peanut-butter-blossom-cookies/a3563f6e-96b0-443f-ae0a-53cef4be6db6" target="_blank">Betty Crocker</a></span></div>
</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Today's recipe starts with leftover Christmas candy. My family has a glorious tradition of giving everyone an insanely huge bag of assorted candies every year. We may not have <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selection_box" target="_blank">selection boxes</a> on this side of the Atlantic, but we find a way to ensure that everyone gets an all-American dose of sugar anyway. </p><p>I decided to use the extra Hershey's Kisses for something better than slowly eating them throughout the next month: cookies! After all, is there a better way to do away with the fruits of the holiday season than encasing candy in more sugar with a lot of butter added in?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYE783eUJBwWW4ThygnRFk3uowEQN_H9LB9QI3_8Eb1KekcrS5Ynj1JrPlocrzN00J-8H6OG4ffxojLtw68wSNwUghXZruWc34idLz8_vg-YWCu2t5kvgNJS0Wsz5w6ZlVAjgmUO-hU_eFRO4A58mF22c2n9vPesctOvncqwhvxmHF_V4PuTbAzJdBgAPl/s4096/IMG_20230202_222145921.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYE783eUJBwWW4ThygnRFk3uowEQN_H9LB9QI3_8Eb1KekcrS5Ynj1JrPlocrzN00J-8H6OG4ffxojLtw68wSNwUghXZruWc34idLz8_vg-YWCu2t5kvgNJS0Wsz5w6ZlVAjgmUO-hU_eFRO4A58mF22c2n9vPesctOvncqwhvxmHF_V4PuTbAzJdBgAPl/s320/IMG_20230202_222145921.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />I've always thought this recipe was too tricky to bother with. For some reason, I was under the impression that you had to reach into the oven and insert the chocolates at <i>just</i> the right time, when they were almost but not quite done. It always seemed like getting the chocolate and cookie to fuse together was a matter of delicate timing. </p><p>But as it turns out, you only need to shove the chocolates into the cookies as soon as you remove them from the oven. As long as you remembered to unwrap the candy at the beginning, there's no "knack" that only comes from several batches of practice.<br /></p><p></p><p>As aforementioned, I wasn't going to write these at all. There's no suspense or drama in saying "I pulled a recipe from the Betty Crocker website and it came out fine." But the real surprise was the amazing response I got to these. One person plucked a single cookie off the platter, wandered off with it, and soon returned to load a whole plate with a pile of peanut butter blossoms. I tried to save some of these to give away, but that simply did not happen. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JbgvHI0ckSERKpX6OyUVIMePH8eRjc42M5fqmOfus_Hkk_HnE7epY-A-uDyMXNIDyRUXBhUA2Z4Vv8KIJz2HoqjhEhJN7piCZHzUjb0mOOBDgSEXpfOp03HYs_R1IfFX8rS_SgSyupLFwHDGx0Xnq3ic-PN-N2ZnlzGMscoO9Kp3Kaueskv_tP7xh3Ew/s4096/IMG_20230130_002403120.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JbgvHI0ckSERKpX6OyUVIMePH8eRjc42M5fqmOfus_Hkk_HnE7epY-A-uDyMXNIDyRUXBhUA2Z4Vv8KIJz2HoqjhEhJN7piCZHzUjb0mOOBDgSEXpfOp03HYs_R1IfFX8rS_SgSyupLFwHDGx0Xnq3ic-PN-N2ZnlzGMscoO9Kp3Kaueskv_tP7xh3Ew/s320/IMG_20230130_002403120.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But I haven't gotten to the most unprecedented part of this recipe: the way I was asked to make more of them. I woke up the next day to find the crucial ingredients casually sitting on the countertop, still in their grocery bag. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI872GgG64JCwPh6-MQhydd-Kv67dy6DQJB0DD_pJj9ffxGuEJmx_f-6dEVReZEiXhfhBpvL0BLZr_okqUPorZPwos6Kqyn9yUGiRUzC69E08gp4Cw8Jo480plrq3QidtQo8qiUOoSgjf-wp-xeQr4Vx8il1b6XtaYpJ5Ld0tIcGwgrUXuaICaf_AC1UMu/s3808/IMG_20230202_183746999.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2538" data-original-width="3808" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI872GgG64JCwPh6-MQhydd-Kv67dy6DQJB0DD_pJj9ffxGuEJmx_f-6dEVReZEiXhfhBpvL0BLZr_okqUPorZPwos6Kqyn9yUGiRUzC69E08gp4Cw8Jo480plrq3QidtQo8qiUOoSgjf-wp-xeQr4Vx8il1b6XtaYpJ5Ld0tIcGwgrUXuaICaf_AC1UMu/s320/IMG_20230202_183746999.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />This has never, and I do mean <i>never,</i> happened before. I regularly gotten recipe requests and dutifully write them onto the next week's grocery list, but no one has ever decided that cookies could not wait until the next supermarket expedition. <i>No one ever fetches ingredients for me.</i> What could I do but give in to popular demand?<p></p><p>Also, I have to credit the Betty Crocker people for their recipe testing and writing skills. My cookies looked exactly like theirs on the first attempt. I didn't do any special baking tricks or anything, I just followed the directions as written. It takes a lot of skill to write a recipe so that someone following along at home can get it exactly right the first time.</p><p>Furthermore, with a lot of recipes, one can never get their own attempts to look like the professional pictures at all. Either the kitchen staff did a lot of finicky baking steps for the photoshoot that didn't get included in the official instructions, or the photographers employed a lot of food-styling tricks that made the food look impossibly perfect, or usually both. However, my peanut butter blossoms looked exactly like the professionally-baked ones aside from my tragic lack of studio lighting.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHGlzERsXmg2LlRg2piimieirL_7K9KcKXJSncDS4k2RnE-3_ytFBY_YHdU4Zzkb35sTVgDUdkDaly9UBe-EtmSl53hAEBtk-nwucwBrU_zWDT9hNq9xaOmthq8iQLPjBkOax6v_6BbNRoFSk-chjz4x01gF5E1k83AVb8IDYl3qmshIGEjWSGf0WP_rQ9/s4096/IMG_20230130_002403120.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHGlzERsXmg2LlRg2piimieirL_7K9KcKXJSncDS4k2RnE-3_ytFBY_YHdU4Zzkb35sTVgDUdkDaly9UBe-EtmSl53hAEBtk-nwucwBrU_zWDT9hNq9xaOmthq8iQLPjBkOax6v_6BbNRoFSk-chjz4x01gF5E1k83AVb8IDYl3qmshIGEjWSGf0WP_rQ9/s320/IMG_20230130_002403120.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We couldn't wait for the cookies to cool off. Therefore, we discovered that when they're still warm, the heat travels up the chocolate and melts it from base to tip. This caused a few of the cookies to get adorable bent tips:<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSywHotDBrm2ARQDaFR5ulH2BuRpox7LrcOGwHfZZUN0OTjQVV4ZYi65kHzs9UoTnOKFQj1CW1do91wuKMP06ZCLsu005ZdTzvEgu6HW37W4M6Es2mcM8TLJEMlYKbnDgDJYzv0iGuEUgHDOe1Uh1HVO4hJrW3HLr9KyaVn_CKkKNM6hNonQDkR72yx5MS/s4096/IMG_20230130_005441673.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSywHotDBrm2ARQDaFR5ulH2BuRpox7LrcOGwHfZZUN0OTjQVV4ZYi65kHzs9UoTnOKFQj1CW1do91wuKMP06ZCLsu005ZdTzvEgu6HW37W4M6Es2mcM8TLJEMlYKbnDgDJYzv0iGuEUgHDOe1Uh1HVO4hJrW3HLr9KyaVn_CKkKNM6hNonQDkR72yx5MS/s320/IMG_20230130_005441673.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But more crucially, someone else (I'm not lying when I say it wasn't me) discovered the melted-chocolate sandwich cookie.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmM-oktFmUVPsOPYtSPvfwX6wz4xM4gkqHYApWYqO4_wflbTTliSVNEKQtSgFvqJbSHR1oBRylEBVcejKCKHM_6ObFP_x4aD1c1fIDxz33X6ZdytyOHmPaCOn9SlayOe8LcNi8HwjEMzUb7K7X6cMDiFkluBTWrMMrSG9F5Qlm1r2l0mu7vgKjN6xslG-M/s4096/IMG_20230202_225809585.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmM-oktFmUVPsOPYtSPvfwX6wz4xM4gkqHYApWYqO4_wflbTTliSVNEKQtSgFvqJbSHR1oBRylEBVcejKCKHM_6ObFP_x4aD1c1fIDxz33X6ZdytyOHmPaCOn9SlayOe8LcNi8HwjEMzUb7K7X6cMDiFkluBTWrMMrSG9F5Qlm1r2l0mu7vgKjN6xslG-M/s320/IMG_20230202_225809585.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />One person said "This is the <i>best</i> version of these cookies I've ever had!"<p></p><p>I sent pictures of the peanut butter blossoms all my other friends who like cooking. <i>Every</i> one of them, down to the last person, said they were major nostalgia bombs. It seems everyone but me had these cookies all the damn time as kids. And everyone, without exception, wanted some. I am not kidding when I say I'm adding these cookies to my list of recipes for wooing. Peanut butter blossoms hit a powerful emotional spot I didn't know one could get to when baking.<br /></p><p>After making two batches in two days, we finally had a surplus. I wasn't sure if you can freeze them without the Kisses getting that powdery white coating on them (which is still fine to eat, although it detracts from the cuteness). In case anyone is wondering, you can freeze peanut butter blossoms for at least a week, and they will be as good as fresh. </p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-86815129292567670632023-12-27T04:12:00.000-08:002023-12-27T07:48:50.392-08:00Cranberry Gelatin: or, Surprisingly good places to put celery<p>Cranberries are in season, which means we at A Book of Cookrye can bring out a recipe that I've sometimes stared at for years.</p><table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Cranberry Gelatin</b><br />
2 cups cranberries<br />
1½ cup water, divided into ½ and 1 cup<br />
1 c sugar<br />
1 tbsp (or one envelope) powdered gelatin*<br />
1/2 c finely diced celery<br />
1/2 c chopped nuts, if desired<br />
1/2 tsp salt<br /><br />
Sprinkle gelatin into ½ cup of water, set aside.<sup>†</sup><br />
Wash berries and coarsely grind them. If you don't have a meat grinder, put the cranberries in a food processor and run it until they are lightly pulverized. Process only about half a cup of cranberries at a time so that they all get evenly chopped.<sup>‡</sup><br />
Put the berries and 1 cup of water in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low, put a lid on, and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the salt and sugar, then raise the heat to high until it boils again. Reduce the heat back to low, put the lid back on, and cook 3 minutes more. Add the gelatin and stir until dissolved. Then remove from heat.<br />
Refrigerate until partially set. It should be thick enough that the berries don't sink or float after you stir it, but instead stay in place. Then add celery and nuts. (If not adding celery or nuts, give it a quick stir when it's half-set to redistribute the berries.) Pour into molds. Refrigerate until firm. Then unmold and serve. <br />Or, you can skip the unmolding business and pour the mixture into a cute serving bowl. A clear glass (or plastic) bowl will show the cranberries' lovely color better than a ceramic one.
<br /><br />
*One standard-size (¼-ounce) envelope of powdered gelatin contains a little less than the full tablespoon the recipe calls for. But if you're going to serve this out of a bowl, one envelope of gelatin is fine. You only need a full tablespoon of gelatin if you want this to be firm enough to stand up on its own.<br />
<sup>†</sup>If desired, squeeze the juice from one or two oranges, and add enough water to make ½ cup. Then let the gelatin sit in that. By adding the orange juice after you remove the pot from heat, you avoid boiling away its flavor.<br />
<sup>‡</sup>You can skip this part if you want. The recipe will come out a little different, but it's good either way.
<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: Handwritten note, <i>The Woman's Club of Fort Worth Cook Book</i>, 1928
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQNeg8MiiPDAe-o02aqYGKILLanyi4Yr-tnvXC7FGjB7sWtsfsQ-o-io7hjYFo47X5lkQBZgFnKHgLWn-w-3MXwIYrahdVgX9917sSrsWZ6fSwwByhIWKQfELn8lcr7gExNMuLuk1NdPi1tM_tnBrweupwtzyNge3Op343hkRGAINPOnBv7bLeiDRHVzXa/s2663/Handwritten%20Salad.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2663" data-original-width="1780" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQNeg8MiiPDAe-o02aqYGKILLanyi4Yr-tnvXC7FGjB7sWtsfsQ-o-io7hjYFo47X5lkQBZgFnKHgLWn-w-3MXwIYrahdVgX9917sSrsWZ6fSwwByhIWKQfELn8lcr7gExNMuLuk1NdPi1tM_tnBrweupwtzyNge3Op343hkRGAINPOnBv7bLeiDRHVzXa/s320/Handwritten%20Salad.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><p></p><p>
Like so many of the recipes I've been meaning to get around to, I simply never had an excuse to make it. Well, the grocery store was desperately trying to unload the last of the cranberries that remained from the holidays. That was as good an excuse as any to purchase them and make a lovely.... salad? Cranberry sauce? I'm not sure what this is, and our handwritten recipe giver didn't record a title above the directions.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRxyLfeGiNjyotZQ1mAnmPLsLK7ZFn-WB8lSx9oiYMUAKidl_lmhVnRJ3mJ_W1jK6gS2jBozIhyphenhyphentWarLGhGTh-WxCvruzFVjOZYlwOnGFC8D2I-AfPpCdkX4tCBr7gfXrZFsK_ZuByQ5JxUCghaR8O0pJDyT_r__pn3WhblmCtij7PdR2EMM7HEk2pPqC/s4096/IMG_20231207_201749451.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRxyLfeGiNjyotZQ1mAnmPLsLK7ZFn-WB8lSx9oiYMUAKidl_lmhVnRJ3mJ_W1jK6gS2jBozIhyphenhyphentWarLGhGTh-WxCvruzFVjOZYlwOnGFC8D2I-AfPpCdkX4tCBr7gfXrZFsK_ZuByQ5JxUCghaR8O0pJDyT_r__pn3WhblmCtij7PdR2EMM7HEk2pPqC/s320/IMG_20231207_201749451.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I've never bought fresh cranberries before. They are unexpectedly white in the middle. When you cut one open, it kind of looks like half of a tiny apple. Also, I've heard people claim that fresh cranberries are unbearably bitter without sugar, but I thought they were just fine. Fresh cranberries might stomp out the flavors of everything else in your fruit salad, though.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidVWmIJcD7pNW9wSSjCcQ9COJ861JlM67AaC5f_aGFY-zS4FDi4_XDaB3OIkZM_a9T8_yTVr38AT2eZ0SME-28Jwz4YEHIQgkLEeU1YNLiu4nZ4kJxs8PVt4yujZJDUDvo9LXiN81Sj9CZKAYqe6fVNxrezIv-L7zo3qChZdawx4BZfMzVWTzPKGmrED-z/s2810/IMG_20231206_193500794.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2107" data-original-width="2810" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidVWmIJcD7pNW9wSSjCcQ9COJ861JlM67AaC5f_aGFY-zS4FDi4_XDaB3OIkZM_a9T8_yTVr38AT2eZ0SME-28Jwz4YEHIQgkLEeU1YNLiu4nZ4kJxs8PVt4yujZJDUDvo9LXiN81Sj9CZKAYqe6fVNxrezIv-L7zo3qChZdawx4BZfMzVWTzPKGmrED-z/s320/IMG_20231206_193500794.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Anyway, this recipe begins with our meat grinder! We haven't used it in far too long, and it was nice to get it out and pulverize some produce. I like how when I'm grinding fruits and vegetables, I don't have to worry about cleaning raw-meat germs off the grinder afterward.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfJQ34p8lBQmfWFSzf6Tw1lGa42DMAXLEIgUL3-HBDpizuzCyRwAC938W5lF1NVNV-Ad_ROiLFCye1UJYYOtrZvcc9dBJQw0YDc_bt2JuTG3hDIKiiP2VF0BDNZcqbhxrZoc-OU3pACxN8INZzpwmiOQrRtBnGCuSWwIPBJPF1a4k6rrB2zTyA-LMG6Tf/s4096/IMG_20231206_194501653.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfJQ34p8lBQmfWFSzf6Tw1lGa42DMAXLEIgUL3-HBDpizuzCyRwAC938W5lF1NVNV-Ad_ROiLFCye1UJYYOtrZvcc9dBJQw0YDc_bt2JuTG3hDIKiiP2VF0BDNZcqbhxrZoc-OU3pACxN8INZzpwmiOQrRtBnGCuSWwIPBJPF1a4k6rrB2zTyA-LMG6Tf/s320/IMG_20231206_194501653.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Setting aside the cranberries, we had to attend to the gelatin. Our recipe calls for one tablespoon of the stuff. I thought that one tablespoon of it would be the same as one envelope, but I poured our happy hoof powder into a measuring spoon just to be sure. It turns out that one standard-size packet of gelatin is almost one tablespoon, but not quite. Because I didn't want to mess up a recipe with a measurement error, I opened a second packet of gelatin to make up for the deficiency.
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</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPArdvl_R7KDG4OwREK5oKH7CsNP0myk-VgRRAlCF_3A0X7qzw_hTJE0N-p13KZy4N4i4A1XdPRXmEW2lsbJPrCJPS74oRFmyV1hiOemQgMumquScHPsCXp_4G1WJkL0v_yoiKuONO2gqpdw61ZS20wHcISr_fk2T3GmKWzUZesCVjDm73j8mNXEYt_AbH/s4096/IMG_20231206_194858129.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPArdvl_R7KDG4OwREK5oKH7CsNP0myk-VgRRAlCF_3A0X7qzw_hTJE0N-p13KZy4N4i4A1XdPRXmEW2lsbJPrCJPS74oRFmyV1hiOemQgMumquScHPsCXp_4G1WJkL0v_yoiKuONO2gqpdw61ZS20wHcISr_fk2T3GmKWzUZesCVjDm73j8mNXEYt_AbH/s320/IMG_20231206_194858129.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictured: one standard-sized packet of gelatin. It is less than one tablespoon.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I wondered if "Jelatine" was a long-discontinued brand of gelatin. If it was, it's thoroughly forgotten. However, a quick search through newspaper archives (thank you to the local library for the free Newspaper.com access) found various recipe pages spelling it "jelatine" until at least 1986.</p><p>This is the most recent "jelatine" I found, though I only looked for a few minutes. You should know that this diet dessert was printed between recipes
for chocolate macadamia muffins and a "chocolate hazelnut truffle log." </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-QwyOckDpSyeogY2difA75-J2bchbHD73J0y3tzl79OPHzAxjFIVHSYXXh6qJHUy5FHaMPP9sXGHY_ag5oS79UX2Wtx68rgG8YWZ3yo5oGkLS9Ld8vKsck8zwx3YiueyubXJayd-h5tpETx0A0DN040qTy5kBIXAhqLHA7JHdiuaE6Uy0lFJLbaSKAtG/s1023/Untitled-1.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1023" data-original-width="352" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-QwyOckDpSyeogY2difA75-J2bchbHD73J0y3tzl79OPHzAxjFIVHSYXXh6qJHUy5FHaMPP9sXGHY_ag5oS79UX2Wtx68rgG8YWZ3yo5oGkLS9Ld8vKsck8zwx3YiueyubXJayd-h5tpETx0A0DN040qTy5kBIXAhqLHA7JHdiuaE6Uy0lFJLbaSKAtG/s320/Untitled-1.png" width="110" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Southern Living Cooking School," <i>Wichita Falls </i>(Texas) <i>Times, </i>September 14 1986, page 10G</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Never let it be said that I don't bloom my gelatin. Our writer didn't tell us to, but people made a lot more gelatin in those days. I think she didn't tell us to soften the gelatin for the same reason no recipe ever tells you "crack open the eggs, save the inner contents, and discard the shells."<br /><p></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CaggmVGPIvHb3e1Y5U01cFcztl9-jK6cKi0q90sxJ6HGZQECNb7B_xqA8qqS0kBYI9-QmG321ZQ4OQ9vrd318Zy5wCLK7Kwg_VtGdFQSwKCCI4OTaqmuqLtL9NsOC0R8srqxMUomu6oXaoBlcmi8ShE2MQ89Fr3FZ69d2qtipCMek6BBDKB5N9CQjSsW/s4096/IMG_20231206_195901079.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CaggmVGPIvHb3e1Y5U01cFcztl9-jK6cKi0q90sxJ6HGZQECNb7B_xqA8qqS0kBYI9-QmG321ZQ4OQ9vrd318Zy5wCLK7Kwg_VtGdFQSwKCCI4OTaqmuqLtL9NsOC0R8srqxMUomu6oXaoBlcmi8ShE2MQ89Fr3FZ69d2qtipCMek6BBDKB5N9CQjSsW/s320/IMG_20231206_195901079.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />While our gelatin sat and softened in water, we could get our main attraction onto the stove.
<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ACWlBZ6tYoO6zCpoMGiUbLvedFOUr1U_x6MiG2MrI8GWBE8VXcPwaREq4jRxhhosp43cgePkM6vY4flLJT6ItJ2EWUol0-AKAOyAKKtXm1KtKDx8nXnHO2wrP-73X8rQyWlxOfZC3Mp3OX7bc4GRMzDfqB1IYcikoZPgsUDL2x0TGezjpm6oYnKQsDed/s4096/IMG_20231206_195126056.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ACWlBZ6tYoO6zCpoMGiUbLvedFOUr1U_x6MiG2MrI8GWBE8VXcPwaREq4jRxhhosp43cgePkM6vY4flLJT6ItJ2EWUol0-AKAOyAKKtXm1KtKDx8nXnHO2wrP-73X8rQyWlxOfZC3Mp3OX7bc4GRMzDfqB1IYcikoZPgsUDL2x0TGezjpm6oYnKQsDed/s320/IMG_20231206_195126056.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what we came here for.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>
After stirring the pot for a minute or so, the cranberries dyed our spoon a rather fetching shade of pink.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9S2EeehyphenhyphenOiH5mjV5CvzXqvaRAmHva5my2ipJcnQ4d6rOerYlVRZUXGeP-7xENu2YmHsSjdsl80jrgxgha1Qgfx6ARtWpVWIslVGDxev6v9sqhJBDQfmwxgawfsQw9W0zpYFKk2tB0_KhcEAf-ptMx63n9ksFjFD_uX0VmHSpQr76Tn0wdm11H0SQMu80/s4096/IMG_20231206_200739586.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9S2EeehyphenhyphenOiH5mjV5CvzXqvaRAmHva5my2ipJcnQ4d6rOerYlVRZUXGeP-7xENu2YmHsSjdsl80jrgxgha1Qgfx6ARtWpVWIslVGDxev6v9sqhJBDQfmwxgawfsQw9W0zpYFKk2tB0_KhcEAf-ptMx63n9ksFjFD_uX0VmHSpQr76Tn0wdm11H0SQMu80/s320/IMG_20231206_200739586.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I always thought this recipe would prove a laborious ordeal, but we had our pot simmering before I knew it. A lot of the recipes from our "get a round-tuit" files have been a lot faster to make than we thought. <p></p><p>As the timer ticked down the berries' ten minutes of simmering, we wiped up the various errant juice splats and chopped the celery.
</p><p>
Before the cooking time was halfway elapsed, a lovely cranberry smell came from under the pot lid. This may sound daft, but I was not prepared for my cranberry sauce to smell like cranberries. For me, cranberries have always existed in those plastic made-from-concentrate juice bottles or cans of gelatinized sauce. I have never smelled cranberry odor from anything that looked like it was derived from nature.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8c-WSo9Qi01tcX17iGYZPkk9f3kUQ1OQutdBn9AA2SbavTWUy6M_ViSTjn6l8iMXi3306fSQDEbNqBEy2LVawR7_rKUiet-JYj39pNd5ERLjOPpOyM3Hjxcn1Ee4CkTBCL_GB7nlAu8WdRfRRumGiCaZnyrO40EtgDve_6qlsqOWlTUfq0ypQJ5DQm1h/s4096/IMG_20231206_200809699.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8c-WSo9Qi01tcX17iGYZPkk9f3kUQ1OQutdBn9AA2SbavTWUy6M_ViSTjn6l8iMXi3306fSQDEbNqBEy2LVawR7_rKUiet-JYj39pNd5ERLjOPpOyM3Hjxcn1Ee4CkTBCL_GB7nlAu8WdRfRRumGiCaZnyrO40EtgDve_6qlsqOWlTUfq0ypQJ5DQm1h/s320/IMG_20231206_200809699.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After ten minutes, we opened the lid to add a <i>lot</i> of sugar. Our simmering cranberries had turned a stunning shade of red. I didn't know you could produce such a vivid color without artificial food coloring. It looked like a pot of Kool-Aid with fruit pieces floating in it.
<p></p><p>
As directed, we let the cranberries cook another three minutes with the sugar, and then it was time to let the gelatin slither into the pot.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgqNSVKXJbaQ-wFne-Lfh47Y8ThB_hMlHJf3gJzZnThGEaTy0kDxxeGOEe_1Gu9F3ZokT7xmoF3IREa0G0sg0AcTaYkUgKDgIWNuKUOi-dOicfZnAl9yt-e9mtHaPXKEgxt3FdHqepGqLrDunIUuU_tLZ2qQY05DymdmM5XjQdY9etzqAawxk4g4e5nomb/s4096/IMG_20231206_201344470.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgqNSVKXJbaQ-wFne-Lfh47Y8ThB_hMlHJf3gJzZnThGEaTy0kDxxeGOEe_1Gu9F3ZokT7xmoF3IREa0G0sg0AcTaYkUgKDgIWNuKUOi-dOicfZnAl9yt-e9mtHaPXKEgxt3FdHqepGqLrDunIUuU_tLZ2qQY05DymdmM5XjQdY9etzqAawxk4g4e5nomb/s320/IMG_20231206_201344470.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />While we were waiting for our creation to semi-congeal in the refrigerator, I realized that I didn't know what I was making. While this would probably be a "salad" by gelatin-era standards, cranberry sauce is basically a gelatin mold. As far as I know, it is the only sauce in the world that can be served free-standing. So, were we making sauce or salad? I sent the recipe to a friend in Wisconsin with an uncalled-for question.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrCr2BNhk56KF62oIXOOX-b-JbScMj-v7ef7sYInhu33-Ze_u50Zc5Ca8OWBrdK3ekeKedZipAB0F4s4GKOOwJN5c-FbPXVWxzoWhI-oY4Eefqyfx-_4pCDjJjPvRHFy5CYb7o3jRUQ0xaixdwB64tc2izD7Iaf9kB-B2NfgMwTaHNor73eBykdQgVFkb/s524/Capture.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="524" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrCr2BNhk56KF62oIXOOX-b-JbScMj-v7ef7sYInhu33-Ze_u50Zc5Ca8OWBrdK3ekeKedZipAB0F4s4GKOOwJN5c-FbPXVWxzoWhI-oY4Eefqyfx-_4pCDjJjPvRHFy5CYb7o3jRUQ0xaixdwB64tc2izD7Iaf9kB-B2NfgMwTaHNor73eBykdQgVFkb/s320/Capture.PNG" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />There you have it. We're making cranberry <i>salad</i>. Though perhaps the cranberry sauce/salad divide is about as muddy as the boundary between cupcakes and muffins. </p><p>Anyway, after a bit of leisurely reading with a nice cup of tea, our salad had half-congealed and was ready to receive the completing ingredients. In full disclosure, I wasn't sure about adding nuts to this so I divided our cranberry mixture in half. One portion got the full nuts and celery, the other got celery only.
</p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6T2GTwkhy_w9R-Oujb9WL67xZMC9ah-vcmZnQjEyCUXH7btckPVAAUj11DM6Qd9DnorFedVFMuN0cQaLraiDzJq_jyCIO-XNY6eYLV1-j2Yjb-A28dRCZwliFGH6euMBTLJfdIl_OEgHMUz_4GnrDz7DgUVsOfduNxurzEj7DdMkTIgN1VehuYyS7ZzHm/s4096/IMG_20231206_223027544.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6T2GTwkhy_w9R-Oujb9WL67xZMC9ah-vcmZnQjEyCUXH7btckPVAAUj11DM6Qd9DnorFedVFMuN0cQaLraiDzJq_jyCIO-XNY6eYLV1-j2Yjb-A28dRCZwliFGH6euMBTLJfdIl_OEgHMUz_4GnrDz7DgUVsOfduNxurzEj7DdMkTIgN1VehuYyS7ZzHm/s320/IMG_20231206_223027544.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />It was then time to put our cranberry salad into the various small bowls that today must pass for molds. I have to admit, our original writer's handwriting gets a bit hard to read as we reach the bottom of the page. I thought she had written "drive into moulds," which I figured must be a charmingly outdated phrase from the days when we spelled it jelatine. The phrase "drive into moulds" seems appropriate when forcing ingredients to assume all manner of freestanding shapes that they never wanted to be. I was even planning to reintroduce the phrase "drive your gelatin into molds" in future recipes. But someone pointed out that the last line simply says "pour into moulds" in particularly scrawly handwriting.
<p></p><p>
And here it is, all firmed up and ready to serve! Before I do a terrible job of getting our gelatin out of its first mold, let's have a look at the pretty scarlet color.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB2YtO3FF8CixKzSRe_Maq0Wqy6NUTF416HJeI-TAzdxdeNi0twX7SRLl3ynue24dbDnyU-9cFbET9eQtU2i4L0X-5oo1xrORg0_SJ_X8dTF3UjFNOiZNaeQ5r0UwkUiT8LiiA1Vgl2w-K8xtYzKekO3bjLT2hscDQ0oXuxZOjCHVgxjZCvm4Rt_kfgcTz/s4096/IMG_20231207_002433814.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB2YtO3FF8CixKzSRe_Maq0Wqy6NUTF416HJeI-TAzdxdeNi0twX7SRLl3ynue24dbDnyU-9cFbET9eQtU2i4L0X-5oo1xrORg0_SJ_X8dTF3UjFNOiZNaeQ5r0UwkUiT8LiiA1Vgl2w-K8xtYzKekO3bjLT2hscDQ0oXuxZOjCHVgxjZCvm4Rt_kfgcTz/s320/IMG_20231207_002433814.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Unfortunately, we had some structural failures when we unmolded our jelatine. Half of it stuck to the bowl, and half of it fell out. Despite our almost-successful reassembly job, our salad was not likely to get a commendation in anyone's home economics class.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix5K23IkkDcmaAak7_w1owWH6YxlXkc9QJA-msuyiZrJVNy4R1z8QPLPbdMuEE6DM5HGChB1VGhA4fVQ_p4VIwrFnwnh1xCHewJ5tRvFTTDhFjxT70l963Wc4BCOSfmQ3wvef8DGbpZ5bFyKa4ErP7hv7WuBvDJGPgAKBsjx2uziq95lXnTuKBoJtr3q2m/s4096/IMG_20231207_002603580.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix5K23IkkDcmaAak7_w1owWH6YxlXkc9QJA-msuyiZrJVNy4R1z8QPLPbdMuEE6DM5HGChB1VGhA4fVQ_p4VIwrFnwnh1xCHewJ5tRvFTTDhFjxT70l963Wc4BCOSfmQ3wvef8DGbpZ5bFyKa4ErP7hv7WuBvDJGPgAKBsjx2uziq95lXnTuKBoJtr3q2m/s320/IMG_20231207_002603580.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But before we taste it, we at A Book of Cookrye have a special and favorite way to eat cranberry sauce! (Or cranberry salad.)
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZqOceOWmtwVqesIprA_x99PtxLrrAKrfly-1UadnHZSZp19kIx6E_gTU-fvXYHZoOnZbOEI-jpNERGrJ38ZwH6UEH0ePVDg4WRzUNj0DYaJJfu1J_QB7ccj5K2pngo7okRcy3rseYmVoxvp-hM1RTAPNEGnLHO8TbtX2zWExcEhwjZieePS6MJ11GZdU/s4096/IMG_20231207_002841535.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZqOceOWmtwVqesIprA_x99PtxLrrAKrfly-1UadnHZSZp19kIx6E_gTU-fvXYHZoOnZbOEI-jpNERGrJ38ZwH6UEH0ePVDg4WRzUNj0DYaJJfu1J_QB7ccj5K2pngo7okRcy3rseYmVoxvp-hM1RTAPNEGnLHO8TbtX2zWExcEhwjZieePS6MJ11GZdU/s320/IMG_20231207_002841535.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />You may think macaroni and cheese and cranberry sauce is a weird combination. But really, macaroni and cheese and cranberry sauce is merely lateral move from those cheese-cracker-and-expensive-jelly trays you see at unpleasantly boring business events. (One day I'll find out where they get those extra-bland crackers topped with flavor-free herb flecks.)
<p></p><p>
But we had two more molds to hopefully liberate in one piece. First, the mini-brick! This time, we dipped our mold (actually a food storage container) in warm water before trying to get the gelatin out of it. Instead of losing a third of our gelatin like the first time, only a small corner of it stuck to the mold. After breaking two gelatins in a row, I wondered: are you supposed to use cooking spray in your gelatin molds? If I do any more gelatins I'll have to look that up.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpmBK0QwGKBqTvtkz_RKGSmgbcjy-rF0w4dem3f6KUZxVWNcrD0jXQRlvJGGl-JyZV1n3rGPYAC8PloDqCH4ynVdpRbT7hZY_laApNKYHBX0ooDcFMUr45GgnIATMe4iYJp5EDKpnJOR_OeaZWuigT8By6hCueLNcAnuaQSxu32t8CMKOkFtiBgKK9YKnL/s4096/IMG_20231207_015023668.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpmBK0QwGKBqTvtkz_RKGSmgbcjy-rF0w4dem3f6KUZxVWNcrD0jXQRlvJGGl-JyZV1n3rGPYAC8PloDqCH4ynVdpRbT7hZY_laApNKYHBX0ooDcFMUr45GgnIATMe4iYJp5EDKpnJOR_OeaZWuigT8By6hCueLNcAnuaQSxu32t8CMKOkFtiBgKK9YKnL/s320/IMG_20231207_015023668.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Lastly, we have the measuring cup. I thought a gelatin molded in this cup would have geometrical interest. It's not hard to see why.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKYJmk2dMJcy4uzXW5tC1q2qh0CrqIGuYxiG_3a9sBpz7-mvSFnd6kHz_1_1AYXireicVlfFedmi-ZgbeN2pDRMz4P5_5uApvjshSSJZLcKAEDGJiY8fgcX2X45ZKXfVs4GLOwiCUUUKcDnOzTDtvekvgViN_1FkCS_NTeDY7bCzBX7FdN4JGu4mKs0qK/s4096/IMG_20231207_015800571.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKYJmk2dMJcy4uzXW5tC1q2qh0CrqIGuYxiG_3a9sBpz7-mvSFnd6kHz_1_1AYXireicVlfFedmi-ZgbeN2pDRMz4P5_5uApvjshSSJZLcKAEDGJiY8fgcX2X45ZKXfVs4GLOwiCUUUKcDnOzTDtvekvgViN_1FkCS_NTeDY7bCzBX7FdN4JGu4mKs0qK/s320/IMG_20231207_015800571.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />However, while it fell out of the cup almost completely intact, it unfortunately looked like this.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGVu6yT_Lx77bzBsxbuQDzpKYHkXOgBtpPJppvkMb_56mlh7v8n-A7TBjP6TiNaB-7pM4zdCqnZ9iDG0thUFFcJPKJ8WKDycPKMdJ0bjDhuQR-AJWPA1Xmp0zMS70E4uLTLhTqO-fXskF3_MNBxlMM0XKGbv9mJvMhbSphZE-TPOG9raR7sgymSz-HCDB/s3287/IMG_20231207_015809493.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2465" data-original-width="3287" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGVu6yT_Lx77bzBsxbuQDzpKYHkXOgBtpPJppvkMb_56mlh7v8n-A7TBjP6TiNaB-7pM4zdCqnZ9iDG0thUFFcJPKJ8WKDycPKMdJ0bjDhuQR-AJWPA1Xmp0zMS70E4uLTLhTqO-fXskF3_MNBxlMM0XKGbv9mJvMhbSphZE-TPOG9raR7sgymSz-HCDB/s320/IMG_20231207_015809493.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />But let's pretend I wasn't in the business of freestanding gelatins. Let's imagine that I poured my salad mixture into a pretty serving bowl and let it congeal there. (Since the gelatin is a very lovely color, we'll imagine I used a clear glass bowl so that you can really admire that cranberry scarlet.) Having <i>not</i> failed at presentation, how does it taste?
</p><p></p><p>
It's delicious. I totally understand why someone wrote this recipe down
in a book, and I am so glad I thought to copy it for myself. I would
have never thought to add celery to cranberry sauce (or cranberry
salad), but cranberries and celery go together really well. I probably
should have cut the celery smaller, but that's easy enough to do next
time. </p><p>However, I did not like the nuts in this. Unlike the celery, they were
hard without being crunchy. And they barely added any flavor. Really,
they just seemed like they landed in the gelatin by accident. And after a
few days the nuts were soggy like vegetables that have boiled for too
long. <br /></p><p>Also, if we were serving this out of a bowl instead of pretending it's a freestanding gelatin mold, we could discover that the cranberry salad is <i>really</i> good on rye toast.
</p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnioBtnA7v2IwLy8iQTQrjbFP2TKfK8qR_TCuwa2u0BxETmcKhkZZHGxYchM2i3GUTRa7qMtxXTtmiUq7SjVgjznMtPA_mD3_GrG5LJclccveTj-9Q7gaeceoHpdI6H3XOtaInIiGQQxPxc332zjCXBBx1xNYNIufgzo5wJRTSLdlACeuc4OTEkMMK2Zc3/s4096/IMG_20231207_015209221.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnioBtnA7v2IwLy8iQTQrjbFP2TKfK8qR_TCuwa2u0BxETmcKhkZZHGxYchM2i3GUTRa7qMtxXTtmiUq7SjVgjznMtPA_mD3_GrG5LJclccveTj-9Q7gaeceoHpdI6H3XOtaInIiGQQxPxc332zjCXBBx1xNYNIufgzo5wJRTSLdlACeuc4OTEkMMK2Zc3/s320/IMG_20231207_015209221.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>
And of course, that meant that a lot of our cranberry gelatin ended in sandwiches like this.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLa7TQgBmSEBiq23XilbBch8xC4oNrknPb3k0I0nfr1OHz_HDnCXTYI2LXYbmcqev4NEY_gHqXcbwLVpumISJL8O0qN0tn0Pmrp2bs3Qd4ner3qVQT7Nqufk5LNWPGBe87rg5j6hrojvkF57SUGgHVUnyZVGstBzTnPutOsaabr5nERreZKWpcRbpBA92/s2048/1703628974001.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLa7TQgBmSEBiq23XilbBch8xC4oNrknPb3k0I0nfr1OHz_HDnCXTYI2LXYbmcqev4NEY_gHqXcbwLVpumISJL8O0qN0tn0Pmrp2bs3Qd4ner3qVQT7Nqufk5LNWPGBe87rg5j6hrojvkF57SUGgHVUnyZVGstBzTnPutOsaabr5nERreZKWpcRbpBA92/s320/1703628974001.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>
I liked this salad (or sauce) enough to make it again. I couldn't help but to wonder how crucial it was that we chop the cranberries. And so, I didn't bother. At first, I thought the recipe's given amount of water wasn't enough to cook the cranberries without chopping them- even though the pot looked charmingly like a cranberry bog in a TV commercial. Our cranberries cooked just fine, and we did not need to raise the waterline.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ornLmTA3Pb9ZD2uYiOpzpHd99_FxupgrdGYkHUy0f_o2FEEnFKMxtFm1056aiF5gLzAZpe0xnBU6KsIKGeOQAIjiOYaxFjVROukfctaiSRby68Ji1q67LUvivWOR7iHbEVhP3qE-ha1hDQfRW6SRxDgrnaXF4ZVIXjpTnBojqmjIsne-7BhlzNOmAJgD/s4096/IMG_20231213_224441188.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ornLmTA3Pb9ZD2uYiOpzpHd99_FxupgrdGYkHUy0f_o2FEEnFKMxtFm1056aiF5gLzAZpe0xnBU6KsIKGeOQAIjiOYaxFjVROukfctaiSRby68Ji1q67LUvivWOR7iHbEVhP3qE-ha1hDQfRW6SRxDgrnaXF4ZVIXjpTnBojqmjIsne-7BhlzNOmAJgD/s320/IMG_20231213_224441188.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As a side note, those cranberry commercials showing those people wading through berry-covered bogs don't show you the swarms of spiders. You know how farmers keep a few semi-feral cats around as pest control? Well, cranberry farmers do the same thing... with spiders. So when people put on their thigh-high galoshes and go into cranberry bogs that are <i>not</i> being filmed for those quaint-looking advertisements, they are covered with literally hundreds of spiders, all of them crawling to the nearest object (or human) to get out of the water.
<p></p>If you think I am batty for dumping celery into cranberry sauce (or cranberry salad, depending on your perspective), well, you may be right. In full disclosure, I like to take home those long pickles that come on the side of deli sandwiches and do this:
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqz979ErkmGMH5QcJ4pIhnLZBgDXq0eG0bdKoC4liWLAWAvgM-k3ZFTnRCDs1SAvbuQIk5ppE8TRJJ36t2Fuakk2lFzzsQ-DeOf9TqMiIaFj56_jG-azzb-6yqrMqPnJmp7eru6LhJvG5lBUkLKR0qJl_CWlYTI50ZEMXGprAP3zE8iehOA-4t8QhBFYQ3/s1280/IMG_20231207_031826_419%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqz979ErkmGMH5QcJ4pIhnLZBgDXq0eG0bdKoC4liWLAWAvgM-k3ZFTnRCDs1SAvbuQIk5ppE8TRJJ36t2Fuakk2lFzzsQ-DeOf9TqMiIaFj56_jG-azzb-6yqrMqPnJmp7eru6LhJvG5lBUkLKR0qJl_CWlYTI50ZEMXGprAP3zE8iehOA-4t8QhBFYQ3/s320/IMG_20231207_031826_419%20(1).jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <br /></div><p>Shudder if you want, but peanut butter and pickle sandwiches show up in several decades' worth of cookbooks. There is precedent.<br /></p><p>Putting aside the pickles, you may think that we made celery cranberry and peanut butter sandwiches out of a stubborn attempt to repurpose all this cranberry sauce. However, the truth is I liked the cranberry sauce more than the jelly I've been purchasing. In fact, when I ran out of cranberry sauce (or salad, I haven't decided which), I made another batch. But I also made it easier on myself by not bothering to chop the cranberries.
</p><p>
Purely because I like testing directions before sharing them, I decided to make this with a single envelope of gelatin, even though it's a bit less than the tablespoon that the directions demand. I was reasonably sure our gelatin would still set, but I wanted to confirm that before saying that it's possible. I also decided to forget about unmolding and just serve it from the container in which it congealed. I
couldn't get over what a beautiful color it was.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpK5KsLTRNbQtfoQqO1RWztcNVOZwl1cRL-1wJP9A7NvXsShy0zap6ZaJjKu8kbxSQCPX1x0K8usLBLqZqu6WLvpAz2NJHUwOXnuTxxf153K1PhW5Oi8ZTCBoRaz6eWrF1mqYhj7fwY7g98vMfVPqvywb6dRRXie4i70YjKTsp3f3J6E5zhPHp93SALRu/s4096/IMG_20231214_002851985.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpK5KsLTRNbQtfoQqO1RWztcNVOZwl1cRL-1wJP9A7NvXsShy0zap6ZaJjKu8kbxSQCPX1x0K8usLBLqZqu6WLvpAz2NJHUwOXnuTxxf153K1PhW5Oi8ZTCBoRaz6eWrF1mqYhj7fwY7g98vMfVPqvywb6dRRXie4i70YjKTsp3f3J6E5zhPHp93SALRu/s320/IMG_20231214_002851985.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I
realize that for some people, adding celery to the cranberries is like
that horrifying moment when you see someone dump a can of green beans
into the spaghetti sauce. But I liked the combination a lot. I actually
like celery in a lot of things. To me, celery is like the vanilla
extract of savory foods. It makes a lot of things taste better, but I
wouldn't eat it on its own.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uqxaEg20vuiRx5WO4-GR-Fhzl0RBc5b2LkQ31Ud4arj4gJBpkAESnZy321KBCWqwVjwLj2oH9pbq19Owfu7g3qqAncHQQhuxdu0LfuyMyyQf4UF5LIBKW5SBmhUyXUMDo3a_cQtbvECKqT2kI9U-KWYadrM7vfpbTI1YswdVWkyEVEXxvSJSLEFaixX3/s4096/IMG_20231214_002952229.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uqxaEg20vuiRx5WO4-GR-Fhzl0RBc5b2LkQ31Ud4arj4gJBpkAESnZy321KBCWqwVjwLj2oH9pbq19Owfu7g3qqAncHQQhuxdu0LfuyMyyQf4UF5LIBKW5SBmhUyXUMDo3a_cQtbvECKqT2kI9U-KWYadrM7vfpbTI1YswdVWkyEVEXxvSJSLEFaixX3/s320/IMG_20231214_002952229.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>
</p><p>
The resulting gelatin wasn't quite as firm as the first batch. I liked it better that way- it seemed agreeably soft instead of bulletproof. So if you want to skip unmolding and let your cranberry sauce firm up in the bowl you will serve it in, I think one envelope of gelatin is better than one tablespoon of it. But for those who want their cranberries to stand on their own, you'll a bit of extra jiggly reinforcement.
</p><p>
I think the salad was a lot better after omitting the nuts. The celery was a perfect crunchy flavor contrast to the sweet and tart cranberries. And it made the salad (or sauce) so substantial that you could put some of it in a small bowl and eat it on its own. Even if you're skeptical of celery in cranberries, I recommend you give it a try. </p><p>Also, this recipe is a lot easier than I thought it would be. For some reason I thought would be a daunting project, but it's mostly just putting things in a pot and letting them simmer for a while. But if you want to be even lazier than that, try adding some chopped celery to a can of whole-berry cranberry sauce. You can either thank or blame me later. </p><p>And for those who don't like celery in their cranberries quite as much as I do, we're going to close today's recipe with the last moment before I greened up the sauce.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpK5KsLTRNbQtfoQqO1RWztcNVOZwl1cRL-1wJP9A7NvXsShy0zap6ZaJjKu8kbxSQCPX1x0K8usLBLqZqu6WLvpAz2NJHUwOXnuTxxf153K1PhW5Oi8ZTCBoRaz6eWrF1mqYhj7fwY7g98vMfVPqvywb6dRRXie4i70YjKTsp3f3J6E5zhPHp93SALRu/s4096/IMG_20231214_002851985.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpK5KsLTRNbQtfoQqO1RWztcNVOZwl1cRL-1wJP9A7NvXsShy0zap6ZaJjKu8kbxSQCPX1x0K8usLBLqZqu6WLvpAz2NJHUwOXnuTxxf153K1PhW5Oi8ZTCBoRaz6eWrF1mqYhj7fwY7g98vMfVPqvywb6dRRXie4i70YjKTsp3f3J6E5zhPHp93SALRu/s320/IMG_20231214_002851985.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p>
S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-85108151257040900802023-12-24T02:56:00.000-08:002023-12-31T11:40:48.721-08:00Pizzelles: or, Lose the man, keep the recipes!<p>This festive season is a great excuse to bake our way through our feelings!</p><p>I may have lost the man who bought me the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/12/cinnamon-wafers-or-getting-to-know-our.html" target="_blank">Norwegian wafer iron</a>, but first I got his Italian grandmother's recipes. </p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Pizzelles</b><br />
<!--<table>
<tr style="background-color:pink"><td>1⅙</td><td>2⅓</td><td>3½</td><td>4⅔</td><td>5⅚</td><td>7</td> <td>cups flour</td></tr>
<tr><td>2</td> <td>4</td> <td>6</td> <td>8</td> <td>10</td> <td>12</td> <td>tsp baking powder</td></tr>
<tr style="background-color:pink"><td>⅓</td> <td>⅔</td> <td>1</td> <td>1⅓</td> <td>1⅔</td> <td>2</td> <td>sticks oleo</td></tr>
<tr><td>1</td> <td>2</td> <td>3</td> <td>4</td> <td>5</td> <td>6</td> <td>eggs</td></tr>
<tr style="background-color:pink"><td>⅓</td> <td>⅔</td> <td>1</td> <td>1⅓</td> <td>1⅔</td> <td>2</td> <td> cups sugar</td></tr>
<tr><td>⅓</td> <td>⅔</td> <td>1</td> <td>1⅓</td> <td>1⅔</td> <td>2</td> <td>tsp vanilla</td></tr>
</table>
Sift together the flour and baking powder.<br/>
Melt the butter, set aside to cool.<br/>
With an electric mixer, beat the eggs until foamy. Gradually pour in the sugar, beating the whole time. Then beat until it is as thick and light-colored as a vanilla custard.<br/>
While beating, slowly pour in the (cooled!) margarine and the vanilla. Beat well.<br/>
Add flour to mixture, mix well.<br/>
Cut dough into small pieces, and place them one at a time onto a hot pizelle iron. If using a stovetop iron, bake about 30 minutes per side or until golden brown. If using an electric iron, let its ready-light be your guide.<br/>
<br/>
=================<br/>-->
1 stick (½ cup) margarine* <br />
3½ to 4 cups flour<br />
2 tbsp baking powder<sup>†</sup><br />
3 eggs<br />
1 cup sugar<br />
1 tsp vanilla (and other flavorings of choice)<br />
<br />
Melt the margarine and set aside to cool.<br />
Sift together the flour and baking powder, set aside.<br />
With an electric mixer, beat the eggs on high speed until foamy. Then gradually add the sugar, beating the whole time. Continue beating for another 3 or so minutes, or until thick and cream-colored.<br />
Add the margarine and the vanilla, and beat for another minute or two.<br />
Lastly, reduce the speed to low. Mix in enough flour to form a firm dough that can be shaped in the hands. Mix only until all is combined- do not overbeat. (If you're worried about overmixing and toughening the dough, set aside the mixer and stir in the flour with a spoon instead.)<br />
Bake on a hot pizzelle iron according to the manufacturer's instructions.<br />
<br />
*use the margarine that comes in sticks, not the spreadable kind that comes in tubs.<br />
<sup>†</sup>Yes, tablespoons. The "b" in "tbsp" is not a mistype.<br />
<br />
<i>Note:</i> If using citrus rind, put it in a small bowl with the sugar. Then rub and pinch it between your fingers to release the flavor.<br />
<!--<br/>---------------------<br/>
Source: Carmella Oszterling-->
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>When my not-ex-at-the-time's mother found out I like to cook, she immediately got out the recipe box in which resided all of her Italian mother's recipes (in her own handwriting) and insisted that I whip out my phone to take pictures of them.
</p><p>
</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLih50DfOVhEUsZ_ouB1tGZrIYPosfmMQEvSYpsqHdFjKMyrAw1ki5V2TlP0cmq_2-Bw9zoYGMA5w12KB8gIbpffUbh4sn1xhoYsNX3HEh-_ZWjOkCwqxY9iVgTwAvr7Zjn1xFbOnjt_qdnQVqZUbMj9YGjw9rQj0QsjXa2PvhlskhF0aGerbVbHBiqqj5/s4932/Pizzelles.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="4932" data-original-width="3784" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLih50DfOVhEUsZ_ouB1tGZrIYPosfmMQEvSYpsqHdFjKMyrAw1ki5V2TlP0cmq_2-Bw9zoYGMA5w12KB8gIbpffUbh4sn1xhoYsNX3HEh-_ZWjOkCwqxY9iVgTwAvr7Zjn1xFbOnjt_qdnQVqZUbMj9YGjw9rQj0QsjXa2PvhlskhF0aGerbVbHBiqqj5/s320/Pizzelles.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br />In retrospect, I should have been suspicious when his mother immediately liked me so much. Every time someone's parents were that grateful to meet me, their offspring proved defective.
<p></p><p>
Anyway, back to pizzelles. It took me a long time to work up the nerve to make these. After all, this is someone's Italian grandmother's recipe. You don't mess with Italians, even ones with faulty progeny. I didn't want to bodge the recipe and then be cursed from beyond the grave. Even after I had a wafer iron in my hand, I was too nervous to give the recipe a go.
</p><p>
The pizzelles lurked in the back of my mind like an unfinished project. I even started looking at pizzelle irons on Ebay, telling myself that I would never buy one. Here's how well that went:
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWADAK4f4Cj1E0abMiTmplIQheRqgRQMsac0uE4OqiUjaggEzBTfkTo65OcqP39CSlgT9nVoeWIBM2C-Mx-nk9-zJjYcWqK1gEEiRK7ru6oCeUb4nqXIaHAnw6KB9E-02iMNqBVYUU-70lYCLLqUEcAY7xoqzYupcawtnszOpyEjcFsJNpb1Gb9yes6I31/s4096/IMG_20231209_145432944.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWADAK4f4Cj1E0abMiTmplIQheRqgRQMsac0uE4OqiUjaggEzBTfkTo65OcqP39CSlgT9nVoeWIBM2C-Mx-nk9-zJjYcWqK1gEEiRK7ru6oCeUb4nqXIaHAnw6KB9E-02iMNqBVYUU-70lYCLLqUEcAY7xoqzYupcawtnszOpyEjcFsJNpb1Gb9yes6I31/s320/IMG_20231209_145432944.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>
I don't normally do unboxing photos, but I have to commend the person who packed this. Many sellers just slap a wad of bubble wrap onto something and assume it is safe. But this seller packed our pizzelle iron marvelously. Please note the styrofoam lining that was placed against the sides of the box before filling the center with confetti and pizzelles. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XOLuHFd9Fmlo24ERuZQaWqanALh9v7_z-p0JSxB-p-ELUfPyBDu_k5Q2QMY7vFQ9-wWlkLhd56D8lgU1xwDwcX7rnok7DNtRekczjS4FkVOxvAPWVMMmjTUsKIrTsU5VZ2lmjRa9vZdQrO3XaOYRsnFcipI5EXgcQhtPySEbParjJv4PAzYtIC8YNvne/s4096/IMG_20231209_145548711.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XOLuHFd9Fmlo24ERuZQaWqanALh9v7_z-p0JSxB-p-ELUfPyBDu_k5Q2QMY7vFQ9-wWlkLhd56D8lgU1xwDwcX7rnok7DNtRekczjS4FkVOxvAPWVMMmjTUsKIrTsU5VZ2lmjRa9vZdQrO3XaOYRsnFcipI5EXgcQhtPySEbParjJv4PAzYtIC8YNvne/s320/IMG_20231209_145548711.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br /></p><p>
You might think we simply dug out a pizzelle iron from inside the paper, but instead we found a plastic-wrapped mummy. Also, the seller had lashed the merchandise to a long piece of styrofoam in case all the other padding wasn't enough. After we unwrapped it, we found... a thoroughly immobilized pizzelle iron.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpZ8HlJT2eH8Csx9BqINpQFG88blG70bZ3PehDSCx7FoaLhpnuKRsirqBYR_uSHw6NdJvFiiX1kBCP2AzvgapK6psnV4APzR6xBliJ0YSUlg3_0o5CV1iyvSzwF9RXMAYQvmJJuquWCUZ6PLGHc2BZf8q-_7XeEUXVzpkwrEPD-MW1s2-hIMNPtltlvpoy/s4096/IMG_20231209_145953803.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpZ8HlJT2eH8Csx9BqINpQFG88blG70bZ3PehDSCx7FoaLhpnuKRsirqBYR_uSHw6NdJvFiiX1kBCP2AzvgapK6psnV4APzR6xBliJ0YSUlg3_0o5CV1iyvSzwF9RXMAYQvmJJuquWCUZ6PLGHc2BZf8q-_7XeEUXVzpkwrEPD-MW1s2-hIMNPtltlvpoy/s320/IMG_20231209_145953803.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After further unwrapping, our treasure was finally free! Again, I have to commend the person who packed this. I've always believed you should pack things as if you were going to throw the box down a flight of stairs. After all, if you want a 20-pound package sent across the continent in four days for the price of a mediocre pizza, do you really think they can afford to lovingly caress your precious cargo throughout its journey?
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And so, with great delight, we opened our pizzelle iron and beheld the pretty design in it.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUJJdjXENcuubAw2dmH8lJj63Ek-kuz5yMT_radP94jsl4KXOiQKto8p8vahV64B4M8bO9QxHJFTeXOpGRdGu41mlZd9Wiwau-QAoiw7ZpSVcQs7nnWk52bPGRKjoXyZ_vod-XnN40Bs57MpsZz0QAuJjWBz2ysNjAVZW_yBwcom9efdZQ1-IyEpeq-ig/s4096/IMG_20231219_213825910.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUJJdjXENcuubAw2dmH8lJj63Ek-kuz5yMT_radP94jsl4KXOiQKto8p8vahV64B4M8bO9QxHJFTeXOpGRdGu41mlZd9Wiwau-QAoiw7ZpSVcQs7nnWk52bPGRKjoXyZ_vod-XnN40Bs57MpsZz0QAuJjWBz2ysNjAVZW_yBwcom9efdZQ1-IyEpeq-ig/s320/IMG_20231219_213825910.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Does it look familiar?
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlwtCsHjcDmaLpiTH3iV0E0n6rmPfh1XTTH-TiVNolwWOdJzPaiVO1kx9J29m6RX1HzzYqYGMLT6tOv87SI7ygBFCcwJulV0sDewi9fO4HYpQbRiYS7Z4SpXLv5wydaIOH_pmKE-oNJnVlJYCo9o2jVRUdI9SN52CAKPkSTBqjp0q1OKi9hiwoFeuiQcb-/s4032/20191224_123008.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlwtCsHjcDmaLpiTH3iV0E0n6rmPfh1XTTH-TiVNolwWOdJzPaiVO1kx9J29m6RX1HzzYqYGMLT6tOv87SI7ygBFCcwJulV0sDewi9fO4HYpQbRiYS7Z4SpXLv5wydaIOH_pmKE-oNJnVlJYCo9o2jVRUdI9SN52CAKPkSTBqjp0q1OKi9hiwoFeuiQcb-/s320/20191224_123008.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>
You may think I obsessively tried to find a pizzelle iron just like my ex's grandmother's, but I didn't. It turns out this is a really common design. In fact, it was one of the first listings that I saw when I recreationally searched Ebay for "stovetop pizzelle iron." So, finding this specific pizzelle iron is less like "I had to track down an ice cream mold from this one metalworking shop that was in my great-aunt's hometown in 1913," and more like "I wanted an avocado-colored Crock Pot just like my mom had." In other words, it was relatively easy, but not instantaneous.
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Even after finding the iron I wanted (multiple times), I thought I was safe from buying one. They were always priced dangerously close to a hundred dollars. And so, secure in the knowledge that everything was too expensive to tempt me, I would flip through listings of pizzelle irons, admiring the pretty designs whenever I needed mental breaks from looking at words on a screen. Then someone in Ohio insidiously listed this one in my price range.
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Our fate was sealed. We would have my ex's grandmother's pizzelles. They start with margarine.
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</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEigKaairXyB7Z4ok2blGF_F6oVJGksyMWqYgES9ALVzBzgeYTu2Smuwbrv6luP5byZbCFet2sYAa6ZFSuQdaoXT-vbZMaTbHP2d9_ORDWiMQQSbw5XD1jRTFCuaiMcPF7uS05imIlR2FEeJooTEXaQhLfMqjGtpf4un0835URyFOl48kH4aYnHyxKnxD/s4096/IMG_20231209_193044204.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEigKaairXyB7Z4ok2blGF_F6oVJGksyMWqYgES9ALVzBzgeYTu2Smuwbrv6luP5byZbCFet2sYAa6ZFSuQdaoXT-vbZMaTbHP2d9_ORDWiMQQSbw5XD1jRTFCuaiMcPF7uS05imIlR2FEeJooTEXaQhLfMqjGtpf4un0835URyFOl48kH4aYnHyxKnxD/s320/IMG_20231209_193044204.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tastes like semi-stolen heirlooms!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>As aforementioned, I have been trying to work up the nerve to make this recipe for quite some time. Because of that, we've had an embarrassing number of boxes of margarine pass through the refrigerator. Every time I purchased the margarine, it would sit in the back of the bottom shelf, waiting for me to work up the nerve to take on the recipe that put it into my shopping cart. But my courage would fail, and I would reluctantly use the margarine in other recipes as it threatened to expire. But that will happen no more. </p><p></p><p>Every time I bought yet another box of it, I did consider that margarine doesn't seem particularly Italian. But I'm not someone's Italian grandmother writing down recipes.
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Meanwhile, we had to figure out what to flavor our pizzelles with. She only wrote down vanilla, but that seemed a bit underwhelming. I always thought Italian pizzelles had a lot of flavorings in them, not just a splash of vanilla.
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Some time earlier, I had asked my future ex what his mom liked to put in hers. He said "I don't know."
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I could not hide my disbelief. "You mean you grew up with Italian relatives and never hung around the kitchen to find out how they made everything?"
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"Not really...?"
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I should have known on the spot that we would never last.
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At any rate, I decided to put in orange rind and almond extract. To my ignorant perspective, that combination seemed Italian-ish. Also, the oranges at the supermarket have been really good lately. (I would later find out that apparently anise is considered traditional in pizzelles.)</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22WcgTz4OeAsEGbjxh0rwEvz8tltImGHuxR-Q45fepyxCY312K5puLlumcrzNaA6ZOrMwdtkHAKFDZ8gjDKEZIZcl-68rbs_AmiiugcRKSnq4h3cry6DvMayPqx290rm1rkpbDAb9fPGpgCzeCidheDA6KzACj0uUsi0jK8_sPciVmLIP2T9AS6cXO-NR/s4096/IMG_20231209_192414671.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22WcgTz4OeAsEGbjxh0rwEvz8tltImGHuxR-Q45fepyxCY312K5puLlumcrzNaA6ZOrMwdtkHAKFDZ8gjDKEZIZcl-68rbs_AmiiugcRKSnq4h3cry6DvMayPqx290rm1rkpbDAb9fPGpgCzeCidheDA6KzACj0uUsi0jK8_sPciVmLIP2T9AS6cXO-NR/s320/IMG_20231209_192414671.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can already see the oil coming out of the orange rind barely after we grated it.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I put the orange rind into the spice grinder with some of the sugar to <i>properly</i> pulverize it. However, the rind contained so much (delicious-smelling) oil that it turned our sugar into a paste. Even though our orange sugar wasn't a free-flowing powder, getting it out of the spice grinder was easy. Resisting the temptation to eat it all was not.<br /><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ArD0KzsTHtqBULzv1OrZHVhUfkVjXO0ngTgAopMR1d0acupO9aDpktPUoc7RAm9Vk0p2njISwxfQOoxPQWUy51HoxY81SFN4hH6D6RXPC2KfMQGIDUtrVLcWEL97JAwgrcYihDFYp4D_WnW2YZ7l-yZdaWdmcFhf_fYa2pIWXiR7zlrUeexDyMyNZe0E/s4096/IMG_20231209_192732915.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ArD0KzsTHtqBULzv1OrZHVhUfkVjXO0ngTgAopMR1d0acupO9aDpktPUoc7RAm9Vk0p2njISwxfQOoxPQWUy51HoxY81SFN4hH6D6RXPC2KfMQGIDUtrVLcWEL97JAwgrcYihDFYp4D_WnW2YZ7l-yZdaWdmcFhf_fYa2pIWXiR7zlrUeexDyMyNZe0E/s320/IMG_20231209_192732915.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Moving on in the recipe, we are directed to beat the eggs "until foamy." I don't know how foamy the eggs are supposed to be, but I decided that meant to let the mixer do this while I get everything else ready:
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3G5COc6klH-pqZ2cstZ6PBYOphEs4VxMJMOWlg80oqmCTN_Jpod5WGpEJrovffkxBulBSLZQvoNiVr7bNLMThlC___rj5WNuUK1WHK9f-XWCsoImDLHkGR7xd3GB_PO4E_Z9i8bubaFN2B2C8ttfwQY0xQdPNn96E7RqPWW0rawnTdMamg7mwlbBvCDQx/s600/ezgif-4-a50fb2cb7c.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3G5COc6klH-pqZ2cstZ6PBYOphEs4VxMJMOWlg80oqmCTN_Jpod5WGpEJrovffkxBulBSLZQvoNiVr7bNLMThlC___rj5WNuUK1WHK9f-XWCsoImDLHkGR7xd3GB_PO4E_Z9i8bubaFN2B2C8ttfwQY0xQdPNn96E7RqPWW0rawnTdMamg7mwlbBvCDQx/s320/ezgif-4-a50fb2cb7c.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />Things remained gloriously foamy until we poured in the margarine, whereupon the eggs deflated. You can see the high-water mark on the sides of the bowl, and compare it to the shrunken puddle that lies below.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBa09bqRdUKzunv0meIQ-E9bSjefe2mBgpk5hRT_4PzTbmdFhmcIilgtKRcs6VJ43aca7EcQ661lJLtjx5gO-elxGpexpY6kVwWkxG-xsuilEqok3t5P2q389T01bir7UHP7M1Fdd2enq5SVR3cmaGSmOC0uOa7r_CPUOdrugmi1BhdIas72T88Mq64fu/s4096/IMG_20231209_195243493.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBa09bqRdUKzunv0meIQ-E9bSjefe2mBgpk5hRT_4PzTbmdFhmcIilgtKRcs6VJ43aca7EcQ661lJLtjx5gO-elxGpexpY6kVwWkxG-xsuilEqok3t5P2q389T01bir7UHP7M1Fdd2enq5SVR3cmaGSmOC0uOa7r_CPUOdrugmi1BhdIas72T88Mq64fu/s320/IMG_20231209_195243493.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At this point, our pizzelles were almost complete. Let the record show that even though I rarely bother with such things, I actually sifted the flour first. Again, you don't argue with Italian grandmothers.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwvlHlE1J9GOpDxKffWD-Wk807dVCCTtuGvFlpAQzAzHFI4Ff9N2UlnvBUTq7CVnK01He_tSFDvvBFYb93ClfLaewyfHP469gYRtmTUwtIKCVfGmnGXkJPx9br8qjaK96El2CQOtS3yocyt7V8B3q37OyJyDIaa_SE_3Mfduq0Kpwi3XbW9_5vxGpgPHe/s4096/IMG_20231209_195320047.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwvlHlE1J9GOpDxKffWD-Wk807dVCCTtuGvFlpAQzAzHFI4Ff9N2UlnvBUTq7CVnK01He_tSFDvvBFYb93ClfLaewyfHP469gYRtmTUwtIKCVfGmnGXkJPx9br8qjaK96El2CQOtS3yocyt7V8B3q37OyJyDIaa_SE_3Mfduq0Kpwi3XbW9_5vxGpgPHe/s320/IMG_20231209_195320047.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Our pizzelle dough was thicker than any waffle batter I have ever made. It didn't fall from the beaters so much as slowly slough off in globs. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwndAOMFkKB80C86iowS0eBsNa64f0BnQGgGhX_5DR_Sd83hy8uOLsts2DWbQ9K1ntuwLkUrfpffKMLTZMunbraEr9jeb84hJcPzrfoT0irGPIkXyHoWi2QtWzY2anjfZqA0G0EZlUlyc9eYmG8tD53h6JpHnTdETSwCyvNGtVBl1klFqZUiLIhsAITxQf/s4096/IMG_20231209_195458808.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwndAOMFkKB80C86iowS0eBsNa64f0BnQGgGhX_5DR_Sd83hy8uOLsts2DWbQ9K1ntuwLkUrfpffKMLTZMunbraEr9jeb84hJcPzrfoT0irGPIkXyHoWi2QtWzY2anjfZqA0G0EZlUlyc9eYmG8tD53h6JpHnTdETSwCyvNGtVBl1klFqZUiLIhsAITxQf/s320/IMG_20231209_195458808.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />But I thought we had probably made it right. The recipe says to "cut into small pieces," which would have been impossible with a batter. Although this was just ever-so-slightly too soft to cut into anything, though one could roll it into balls between the hands. Whether I had made this right or not, it was time to put our dough onto the pizzelle iron.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqNhqEzQBgkHMCv5DTnrvjKHtpZkfGd1m8xMt4FYFSFquDLxo6GevQyKsZnoVaGJGWO0a5gzmQFMkQQXw_xNytxdgirNYOmYdtHI-7Z1CTBNj4er1ljukONofFM50Aw3C2HceghtarUunHazL1jvMQzLIIryYZnTfY_MH1MmrXW85FUPmYxKe51TyfItu/s4096/IMG_20231209_200624290.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqNhqEzQBgkHMCv5DTnrvjKHtpZkfGd1m8xMt4FYFSFquDLxo6GevQyKsZnoVaGJGWO0a5gzmQFMkQQXw_xNytxdgirNYOmYdtHI-7Z1CTBNj4er1ljukONofFM50Aw3C2HceghtarUunHazL1jvMQzLIIryYZnTfY_MH1MmrXW85FUPmYxKe51TyfItu/s320/IMG_20231209_200624290.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Or at least, it was time to put it on <i>some</i> sort of waffle iron. <p></p><p>You know how new waffle irons are maddeningly sticky before they've been used a lot? (Or at least, the ones without a nonstick coating are.) Well, I had horrible visions of gouging out burnt cookie fragments from all those pretty lines in the suspiciously shiny pizzelle iron. And so, I got out our faithful Norwegian friend to bake the first ones. Given the insanely high amount of baking powder, I put only a tiny little ball of dough onto the iron. After it cooked, we had a cute tiny wafer. It also showed the lines on the iron better than our cinnamon wafers ever had. If I knew someone into resin casting, I could have given them one of my ex's grandmother's pizzelles and asked them to copy the iron that made it.<br /></p><p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMi4x5J5SNG2-azieUk8vZlZISIcTRbOI30ci9Yb0HdwhoiErE0yKjFlnEdDyKCnvxI4oIBiKuCe-X4s6caERFpxz_SB8Pd5tEUtAn_6F7ByRLHd6vVf3TZhYctlZ9X4XsYsYGDYTXIONuzFjVwsViqQeUGG98-yFfoN8PcNc2NKIHwQVfjKEDSAwwUtsS/s4096/IMG_20231209_200817021.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMi4x5J5SNG2-azieUk8vZlZISIcTRbOI30ci9Yb0HdwhoiErE0yKjFlnEdDyKCnvxI4oIBiKuCe-X4s6caERFpxz_SB8Pd5tEUtAn_6F7ByRLHd6vVf3TZhYctlZ9X4XsYsYGDYTXIONuzFjVwsViqQeUGG98-yFfoN8PcNc2NKIHwQVfjKEDSAwwUtsS/s320/IMG_20231209_200817021.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Better a puny pizzelle than one that oozes into the flames below.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />With our second pizzelle (is it really a pizzelle if I didn't use the pizzelle iron right in front of me?), I dared to put a little more dough onto the iron. As it puffed up, it raised the lid far more than I would have ever expected.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Qr40_-YuBvSTKGxaX4xv2bn3oRVUGLldpkhawWu_tRbX6Dy7NcbfeiG3ZWMxLNgdkLl802xyPgcP3BMtE9PUW7FT43yrfmc-FEJIPzoakm0_bi_PvkUvQgdT4UJanQObUPSJTKinHAH6SPzcin0rV1-jjNO2VKqEHKZEzFqar7tDDJmwhVSJh7NQR5tF/s3492/IMG_20231209_201015810.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2619" data-original-width="3492" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Qr40_-YuBvSTKGxaX4xv2bn3oRVUGLldpkhawWu_tRbX6Dy7NcbfeiG3ZWMxLNgdkLl802xyPgcP3BMtE9PUW7FT43yrfmc-FEJIPzoakm0_bi_PvkUvQgdT4UJanQObUPSJTKinHAH6SPzcin0rV1-jjNO2VKqEHKZEzFqar7tDDJmwhVSJh7NQR5tF/s320/IMG_20231209_201015810.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I had no idea how long to cook this, so I waited until the steam emanating from the iron tapered off. (I had no idea what other signs of doneness to watch for.) When we opened the iron, we were rewarded with the most beautiful cookie patty
I've ever made. <br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ-_bm2UHSlKFb8q_-vjH-9YCfNmyLlExpmgHdjM2qPFAZxZxRfZvXuN1jObY-lBy6DcffWIVYAZvFFs6okMVre-Qx8XVqC0BN5mRdevdKgLi5MKBuoyXDH9rFVY7NUG8u9-cWSMKXlqe9R8Z80je5STGZw2w0IkdvLHTW9-5k1iCJMoyNaRiJ4VFlKxqk/s4096/IMG_20231209_201351623.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ-_bm2UHSlKFb8q_-vjH-9YCfNmyLlExpmgHdjM2qPFAZxZxRfZvXuN1jObY-lBy6DcffWIVYAZvFFs6okMVre-Qx8XVqC0BN5mRdevdKgLi5MKBuoyXDH9rFVY7NUG8u9-cWSMKXlqe9R8Z80je5STGZw2w0IkdvLHTW9-5k1iCJMoyNaRiJ4VFlKxqk/s320/IMG_20231209_201351623.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Having proven the recipe on familiar utensils, it was time to make pizzelles on an actual pizzelle iron.
<p></p><p>
As I laid the iron on the stove, I found that it was is oddly unsuited for a domestic gas burner. Those fin- like protrusions leading to the hinges prevented the iron from laying flat. I would like to point out that the Norwegian iron doesn't have this problem.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik1QKzkFMQCCvQDDQG0X_-JwQdgcO5q8rRHsgvlkpbKSp93nhSQZPdu8XqAjKxKg2iEcDDuUSDgWN2ZNFFNHT-ynP42Rld8nLKB0gVuavPA2qp-gFBK3AxTtXK9XvNogEII_9BJoB-g7_VXH_AOuOOEHodHdDhBrM4PixEv2P4OIyDsPQkWQsm80DsrbJT/s4096/IMG_20231212_024109458.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik1QKzkFMQCCvQDDQG0X_-JwQdgcO5q8rRHsgvlkpbKSp93nhSQZPdu8XqAjKxKg2iEcDDuUSDgWN2ZNFFNHT-ynP42Rld8nLKB0gVuavPA2qp-gFBK3AxTtXK9XvNogEII_9BJoB-g7_VXH_AOuOOEHodHdDhBrM4PixEv2P4OIyDsPQkWQsm80DsrbJT/s320/IMG_20231212_024109458.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Anyway, I had stalled, dithered, and fretted about my recipe-unworthiness long enough. The iron was hot, the batter was made, and the time had arrived! I almost put the iron back and finished cooking the pizzelle dough on our faithful Norwegian friend. But I didn't want to waste the gas that had already been expended to heat the Italian iron. And so, I drenched it with cooking spray and committed myself to going forward.
<p></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSWDoN5OVKHz1DyCOAfowC9nMbslZyaefAtxfFAcSp2w8J58kFTEEp-8nlNEu279UhC9iKyaKpmdh36FmsSXrAxNbjVvux_drp1Q5F48zXZmE3HcaJiFAoDUUhmeFZCuWb0LMNG3iDJKdL-OOjnUYRveAbQ7Nn5CQslnV-7d23h92H1lMQLJ3p-ysNLl0/s4096/IMG_20231209_202054003.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSWDoN5OVKHz1DyCOAfowC9nMbslZyaefAtxfFAcSp2w8J58kFTEEp-8nlNEu279UhC9iKyaKpmdh36FmsSXrAxNbjVvux_drp1Q5F48zXZmE3HcaJiFAoDUUhmeFZCuWb0LMNG3iDJKdL-OOjnUYRveAbQ7Nn5CQslnV-7d23h92H1lMQLJ3p-ysNLl0/s320/IMG_20231209_202054003.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I put a daringly large ball of pizzelle dough onto the hot iron, almost defying it to spill over the edges and ignite. However, after having made some Scandinavian-looking pizzelles only minutes earlier, I thought I had a reasonable-ish handle on how much the dough expands. <p></p><p>Also, I figured that while the Norwegian iron has little delicate notches, the Italian one has deep trenches that need to be filled. </p><p>Things got treacherously close to fiery, but our pizzelle (barely) remained inside the iron and unsinged.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBRHYr9KoSfs_xoWqaU-arOkw7hPOu3KgDJuA3JoKU7lU1bfoSTZfVjBCIOhnzzOW4iuIqCCz6EVEZctyI0qb5Vc2i87ao25yqVdeDBStcXnUspips3edTHwOFhcXcPjWn26fQlCKMHRLptqz4Dyh3_6Oa5fkpGtiu_6-SBeLID2cbcW1S8Vk1mVosktB/s3578/IMG_20231209_202201546.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2684" data-original-width="3578" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBRHYr9KoSfs_xoWqaU-arOkw7hPOu3KgDJuA3JoKU7lU1bfoSTZfVjBCIOhnzzOW4iuIqCCz6EVEZctyI0qb5Vc2i87ao25yqVdeDBStcXnUspips3edTHwOFhcXcPjWn26fQlCKMHRLptqz4Dyh3_6Oa5fkpGtiu_6-SBeLID2cbcW1S8Vk1mVosktB/s320/IMG_20231209_202201546.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After waiting for about 45 seconds, we raised the lid and saw.... this!
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyEDqQNd4o4iGlvLm4yZwQzHIDBGzOi2wbWTekM6V7ffooWLE8umhiSvy4aQoxbFV9vDOURf9fnOOPggxP8GGrr8gkPfWbrp07co5OY6DgH-0nP-O62bX0CjDcKBqCALBfdomXG-oS-ZYGU9PdFwCzq-X4tYXbPZamuldTy4KLraIVtsRqEkrif1EFmS6/s4096/IMG_20231209_202229812.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyEDqQNd4o4iGlvLm4yZwQzHIDBGzOi2wbWTekM6V7ffooWLE8umhiSvy4aQoxbFV9vDOURf9fnOOPggxP8GGrr8gkPfWbrp07co5OY6DgH-0nP-O62bX0CjDcKBqCALBfdomXG-oS-ZYGU9PdFwCzq-X4tYXbPZamuldTy4KLraIVtsRqEkrif1EFmS6/s320/IMG_20231209_202229812.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I was very suspicious of how well our first pizzelle came out. Maybe my ex's grandmother decided to cut me a posthumous favor as compensation for faulty progeny. Or maybe it's because I used enough cooking spray to practically fry it.
<p></p><p>
As much as I liked the flower more when looking at the iron itself, I thought the interlocking-squares design looked nicer on the pizzelles. Both sides looked really pretty, but I never thought I would prefer squares over flowers.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJVcUuc_jPG5b_SVqShw73pIJNBXxIFvMrvvDAxkKkzS2eAZjRqsEeJFWBnoeffVXzy_yXAnKNz8WfSFDI0wptNFqBknoVcW9ixWJj9VFRQS2LnH5TqdVIkdEMIAbLdk1dkxbsAY4aLOSbhKzm7IOiLsovJ_Rp9JznOtysIpV5GLU0IzUtLu_mbr4JkEsT/s4096/IMG_20231209_202250558.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJVcUuc_jPG5b_SVqShw73pIJNBXxIFvMrvvDAxkKkzS2eAZjRqsEeJFWBnoeffVXzy_yXAnKNz8WfSFDI0wptNFqBknoVcW9ixWJj9VFRQS2LnH5TqdVIkdEMIAbLdk1dkxbsAY4aLOSbhKzm7IOiLsovJ_Rp9JznOtysIpV5GLU0IzUtLu_mbr4JkEsT/s320/IMG_20231209_202250558.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />For our next pizzelle, I decided to try draping it over a bowl instead of laying it flat. Even when hot off the iron and therefore at its floppiest, the pizzelle was too resilient for our edible-bowl dreams.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNBau7T7YKtJzw41Jk3XqG-Vu4oo5MFwXDoU-bcr8fCuxBDUP_eLGtVcRZB60Lkvk53YT0gOG9l42OZixyCukQGYOtawLfR_pIYar7J1ttSZ33UjZ-TFPCBu48Ytx4AGCtws1fPTnR_VM9a6S0IPyGU5jvMMn-rl5Kpb5r8revSL7uEVheaQmIXxj4a4q/s4096/IMG_20231209_203530272.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNBau7T7YKtJzw41Jk3XqG-Vu4oo5MFwXDoU-bcr8fCuxBDUP_eLGtVcRZB60Lkvk53YT0gOG9l42OZixyCukQGYOtawLfR_pIYar7J1ttSZ33UjZ-TFPCBu48Ytx4AGCtws1fPTnR_VM9a6S0IPyGU5jvMMn-rl5Kpb5r8revSL7uEVheaQmIXxj4a4q/s320/IMG_20231209_203530272.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After the pizzelle had cooled and we laid it on a plate, it was barely curved enough to look deliberate. No one was going to serve a charming and presentational assortment of fresh fruits and whipped cream in it.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFhehi4LD-p3EcTrmkoKA8aCyjIrxnx1LYjxjAnYLb8SuODAVk-Eb3kg_Yul5pS460AS33HWOOPOLcOQySLDH009qaKiMJpGwEJnIKXD8nGGya45S1hvu8YeRN7_o563kVX5DNQlw3M_r2K3OYUZcTrhwJbX821OjK5f7Jj55nCgrrSWTQflAC8Jh4KLz/s4096/IMG_20231209_203906331.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFhehi4LD-p3EcTrmkoKA8aCyjIrxnx1LYjxjAnYLb8SuODAVk-Eb3kg_Yul5pS460AS33HWOOPOLcOQySLDH009qaKiMJpGwEJnIKXD8nGGya45S1hvu8YeRN7_o563kVX5DNQlw3M_r2K3OYUZcTrhwJbX821OjK5f7Jj55nCgrrSWTQflAC8Jh4KLz/s320/IMG_20231209_203906331.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />After making all these pizzelles, you may wonder how they tasted. And... well, our first batch had an interesting, almost crumbly texture. It reminded me of when we <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2015/12/silver-and-gold-cakes-or-is-it-worth.html" target="_blank">made an entire cake out of egg yolks</a>. I had always thought pizzelles were supposed to be crispy. I also was a bit suspicious of my first batch's pale color. The recipe card says to bake "until golden brown," and ours had remained obstinately yellow. And I could tell that if I had left them in the iron long enough to turn brown, they would have become tooth-breakingly hard. </p><p>It was time to call in the experts.
</p><p></p><p>
This led me to Fante's Kitchen, a cooking store in Philadelphia that I used to go to all the time in the fondest dreams that I could afford all the beautiful cookware they had. I remember seeing hand-painted pie birds, ceramic baking dishes that looked more delicious than any food you could possibly put in them, and everything else that I wished I was the kind of cook who used. Heck, when I got it into my head to buy a two-pan balance scale just like Miss Leslie insisted on in her 1837 cookbook, Fante's Kitchen had a box of brass weights to put on it. (However, I hadn't the funds.)
</p><p>
Fante's has <a href="http://fantes.net/pizzelle.html" target="_blank">an entire page of pizzelle recipes</a>, so I called them during store hours and asked for help and advice. In an attempt to seem more normal, I said I had gotten a stovetop pizzelle iron (true) without any instructions (also true) from my great-aunt (honesty isn't always the best policy) and didn't know what I was doing with it (true). The person who answered the phone said "Just one second, let me ask our resident pizzelle expert."
</p><p>
My first question was "How hot should the burner be under this thing, anyway?"
</p><p>
"You want to be able to say a Hail Mary for each side."
</p><p>
As I was informed, there's no simple "Set the stove to low/medium/high" for these things. Nor can you set a timer and let it dictate your baking. Also, pizzelles shouldn't expand upwards. Indeed, many pizzelle irons have a latch to keep them tightly shut as the batter expands. And with older pizzelle irons that were actually made of cast iron instead of aluminum, the sheer weight of the metal kept them pressed tightly shut. Since mine had no latch, I would need to tightly hold the handles as the batter expanded, which would force it to spread outward without going upward.
</p><p>
If all that sounds daunting, did you know you can just buy an electric iron? It works just like a countertop waffle iron, with a ready-light and everything. I'm not complaining about using a stovetop iron (after all, I deliberately bought the thing). I'm just noting that this can be a lot easier if you want to try it yourself. </p><p>Archaic kitchen things are my idea of a good time— but only when they're a choice and not the only way. Some people forsake all the comforts of civilization to go camping with nothing but a tent and a pocketknife, secure in the knowledge that their car awaits to take them back to their house with plumbing and electricity. In the same way, I use things like stovetop waffle irons because I know that the burner sits on top of a fully-automatic, thermostatically-controlled, self-cleaning oven.
</p><p>
As I looked around online, I noted that a lot of people put their pizzelles on cooling racks instead of
dropping them directly onto plates. (Well, there's this one guy who <a href="https://youtu.be/IIWX888NJXU?si=D0uMlNdDuG87LIZQ" target="_blank">flings them onto the bare countertop</a>.
But I don't have that kind of horizontal space.) I had no expansive
cooling rack, but I do have a small one I got for cooking fish
fingers in the toaster oven.</p><p>Anyway, with our new knowledge, we set out to make pizzelles again. We adjusted the heat, we used the cooking spray, and after putting in the batter, we firmly squeezed the iron shut. The batter tried to shove the iron open with more force than I would have expected from a hot flour-and-egg foam. I had to clamp the handle with white-knuckle force. After about the time required to say a Hail Mary, I felt the fight inside the iron go away. The iron's handles, rather than struggling against my fist, went limp in my hand. It almost felt like I had squeezed the life out of my own creation.
</p><p></p><p></p><p>The pizzelles were golden-brown and so lightweight I thought they might float out of my hand when I picked them up.</p><p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjb-OQ44UnfloE5KXIYmRy8UTWRu_AqLsqerIaUBoXekXdwQ1RomKeYDG2Oi26oSAqJV7wghacoPlPG6j_EMDVc6DnadPX6Yx61SksvPPlc_W3zMTI25XYzd_yXIJWVaTtDjHLWEN59_ZXRgEUQGXhRx2WbxGxQ_gzKSMMJb3c_zO2Jb4ueWqGVAFJZG0/s4096/IMG_20231212_231128662.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjb-OQ44UnfloE5KXIYmRy8UTWRu_AqLsqerIaUBoXekXdwQ1RomKeYDG2Oi26oSAqJV7wghacoPlPG6j_EMDVc6DnadPX6Yx61SksvPPlc_W3zMTI25XYzd_yXIJWVaTtDjHLWEN59_ZXRgEUQGXhRx2WbxGxQ_gzKSMMJb3c_zO2Jb4ueWqGVAFJZG0/s320/IMG_20231212_231128662.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cooling rack is tiny, but it's all I've got.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I began to think I might be getting the hang of this. I was told the thin parts should be almost translucent. Well, I held a pizzelle up to the nearest light, and it almost looked like the window over some ancient church's altar somewhere in Italy. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83WqiEZW5tAhQso-JxwovXqPzzXHHK0GSTKTMtbw393enFoWpkch7behkyyTtWQHf5U0NdS0hF6yEykr5Scl3CwOrchozf7_1BAk6goOrxp5G8LACFO77cw3Ie6v2On8VHt7G0YMd18nsi3KWD6qb5-kU39K3olm-23ez2FRolMeM6ARY-qWPsnT2tMbV/s4096/IMG_20231212_231145522_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83WqiEZW5tAhQso-JxwovXqPzzXHHK0GSTKTMtbw393enFoWpkch7behkyyTtWQHf5U0NdS0hF6yEykr5Scl3CwOrchozf7_1BAk6goOrxp5G8LACFO77cw3Ie6v2On8VHt7G0YMd18nsi3KWD6qb5-kU39K3olm-23ez2FRolMeM6ARY-qWPsnT2tMbV/s320/IMG_20231212_231145522_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As a reminder, you can buy an electric pizzelle maker and make this a lot easier. If you can operate a countertop waffle iron, you can use an electric pizzelle maker.<br /><p></p><p>
While the first attempt at pizzelles was on the better side of tolerable, the second ones were fantastic (if you flicked off any errant singed spots on the edges). I was so glad I kept this recipe. And since my ex doesn't cook, I spitefully told myself that I'm not even family anymore and I'll still have his grandmother's pizzelles more often than he ever will. </p><p>I will be dealing with future men like this: </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxIwWQuUwjViCvL08jK9QBnem0knMN_FEQt-grLepUmpRXU7zWEEyzvTFJqse7JTCf9SNWjE77yD5XqKEN2YQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><!--<br />I have to add an amusing postscript. By chance I happened to find someone selling the same pizzelle iron, still in the original box with the instructions. I didn't purchase it, but I noted that the suggested recipe on the back page looked familiar... <p></p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R5uSwDJ6YSKj4ts-K-xfcAwgA-P4XH1_cwNL_C4zMb7yyzdu6eBTBLgVH4sISdxt3jv9izCn_7YFYH9A3MwtNH2EOQhwajb5rWi0JGeoYzoOKc3Mb0yboEaaqsKmk-J89tQVGBTeFYKIlZvWMjQW8sivvgC_Wuoj9oXAg7qm3dVaFw4I3pi4sXEsF68s/s3022/s-l16005%20-%20Copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2131" data-original-width="3022" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R5uSwDJ6YSKj4ts-K-xfcAwgA-P4XH1_cwNL_C4zMb7yyzdu6eBTBLgVH4sISdxt3jv9izCn_7YFYH9A3MwtNH2EOQhwajb5rWi0JGeoYzoOKc3Mb0yboEaaqsKmk-J89tQVGBTeFYKIlZvWMjQW8sivvgC_Wuoj9oXAg7qm3dVaFw4I3pi4sXEsF68s/s320/s-l16005%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Today's featured pizzelle iron may be seen on the bottom left corner of the page.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>That's right, his grandmother wrote down the recipe that came in the box with her pizzelle iron. And while it probably wasn't the only pizzelle recipe she ever made, the spatters on her recipe card show that she definitely used it a lot. </p><p>All this time, I had let myself imagine that the recipe was handed down through a few generations, possibly going all the way back to Italy. We note that the original recipe uses shortening where she uses
margarine, which added a bit of flavor where the shortening added none. <br /></p><p></p><p>Of course, finding out that your family traditions came from a now-ancient food label <a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/secret-family-recipes-copied" target="_blank">is nothing new</a>. My <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2020/02/that-fantastic-fudge.html" target="_blank">great-grandmother's legendary fudge</a> came off the back of a marshmallow creme jar. Given how fantastic these pizzelles came out, I would have saved the recipe on the back of the instructions too.</p><p>I wanted to close with a short paragraph about how easy it is to use a stovetop iron, with a list of simple tips to guarantee success. After all, a quick search on Ebay shows that the designs on older ones tend to be prettier and so much fanciful than the ones we see today. But while stovetop waffle irons aren't impossibly hard to use, there is definitely a knack to it that can only come with practice. </p><p>However, they're not as hard to use one of those as you may think. If you can use a countertop waffle iron, you'll probably get the hang of a stovetop one before you've gotten halfway through your first batch. Also, waffles and pizzelles are cheap to make. Your first failures and half-successes won't be too costly. And of course, you can always get an electric iron instead. <br /></p>-->S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-72003935870826613882023-12-21T00:34:00.000-08:002023-12-22T04:40:26.255-08:00Fruit Cookies: or, Surprisingly fruitless yet satisfyingly good<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1KUI8vsPvJjC_AQEQkKDdOnpEgUkq1pv33gnxrRpdQR6eb67OonJmCxvDROG5GZSo_m9qjJ_kPx-vwSZBk4zp9TOBVshrdXmi9VymK175YW0SWinjMw5Vitp__QmDecQlVKWfE0BYoSQJpl0snZSoFYKsdTBjhi_9FbiOpFz3r6H-CWxj0g2_YWRVZr7/s4096/IMG_20231209_004314329.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>I've been wondering how these would come out for years.</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Fruit Cookies</b><br />
1 cup butter, margarine,* or shortening<br />
2 cups dark brown sugar<br />
2 tsp cinnamon<br />
1 tsp cloves<br />
1 tsp nutmeg<br />
¼ tsp salt<sup>†</sup><br />
1 tsp baking soda<br />
3 eggs<br />
2 tbsp cream<br />
1 tsp vanilla<br />
4 cups flour<br />
½ cup chopped raisins<br />
½ cup chopped nuts<br />
1 cup chopped dates<br />
<br />
Heat oven to 375°. Have greased cookie sheets ready.<br />
Cream the butter, and sugar, spices, salt, and baking soda, beating until light and fluffy. Then beat each egg in thoroughly, one at a time. Add the cream and vanilla, beat well. Next, mix in the flour, stirring just until blended. Then add the raisins, nuts, and dates.<br />
Roll into 1 to 1½-inch balls. Place 3 inches apart on the pan. Gently pat each one to make it flat and about a half-inch thick. <br />Bake 10-12 minutes.<br />
These are better the next day. The spices get stronger.<br />
<br />
*Use the margarine that comes in sticks, not the spreadable kind that comes in tubs.<br />
<sup>†</sup>The original recipe calls for ⅓ teaspoon of salt. But I don't know anyone whose measuring spoons come with a one-third teaspoon. Rounding down to a quarter teaspoon won't hurt a thing. Omit the salt if using margarine or salted butter.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><!--You can see <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2014/07/brownies-or-i-should-get-more-recipes.html" target="_blank">this person's recipe for brownies</a> on the back of the page.-->
Source: Handwritten note, <i>The Woman's Club of Fort Worth Cook Book</i>, 1928
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVInpoTOeAVN5F5c5Xku0rFIDx75KgURZ5vka2wme51FruWO2dBM59uX_gSPoDxZngLbYCowe5DPWna7Y3oB3nOf7wW8zjOzVUy73xcffjByo4MSfQuCcaJaezpTuHphjCtDDB4GVsyr46Aj4j2MBDfdxp_4eO2HJEe6ZV8g3lV5lrFRk6zB-NxB-W14BY/s2672/Fruit%20Cookies%20flat.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2672" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVInpoTOeAVN5F5c5Xku0rFIDx75KgURZ5vka2wme51FruWO2dBM59uX_gSPoDxZngLbYCowe5DPWna7Y3oB3nOf7wW8zjOzVUy73xcffjByo4MSfQuCcaJaezpTuHphjCtDDB4GVsyr46Aj4j2MBDfdxp_4eO2HJEe6ZV8g3lV5lrFRk6zB-NxB-W14BY/s320/Fruit%20Cookies%20flat.jpg" width="204" /></a></div><br />When I borrowed my college library's copy of <i>The Woman's Club of Fort Worth Cook Book</i>, I couldn't resist scanning the handwritten recipes in the back. After all, someone had carefully saved these. Many of us save recipes on the odd scrap of paper, but writing them into a cookbook is a <i>commitment.</i> At the time, I thought it was a shame that the handwritten recipes were now locked in a library's special collections instead of in someone's kitchen- especially after the first one I tried (<a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/04/elizabeths-rolls-made-easier.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth's Rolls</a>) was so amazing that I still regularly make them.
<p></p><p>
Granted, I didn't think all of the recipes would be as good as Elizabeth's rolls. But all of them looked really good. Well, all of them except the chicken mousse, which involved ground-up cooked chicken, mayonnaise, and gelatin. But we're not here for that today. Today we are making fruit cookies! I had high hopes for this recipe because the page has a grease stain on it which became very obvious after I converted the image to black-and-white for printing.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7wTEphJKsSEHqJlq9b8yelfCNl3-ZknlCpukxRLLM-n9jKBp-DwgQewhDN9XhzN26W34UhyphenhyphenXJBxKWzJD1erxn067OBa3gLLAtjqDWlQP3_RzuQ6GzhvZv0b6N950ZKDJGLXUl0m6yZE0_SxkREys7o5HiI4AxBIbvXhpZZGKuHrsSiZfEYiUZ49rEaOS/s2672/Fruit%20Cookies.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2672" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7wTEphJKsSEHqJlq9b8yelfCNl3-ZknlCpukxRLLM-n9jKBp-DwgQewhDN9XhzN26W34UhyphenhyphenXJBxKWzJD1erxn067OBa3gLLAtjqDWlQP3_RzuQ6GzhvZv0b6N950ZKDJGLXUl0m6yZE0_SxkREys7o5HiI4AxBIbvXhpZZGKuHrsSiZfEYiUZ49rEaOS/s320/Fruit%20Cookies.jpg" width="204" /></a></div><br />I think I avoided this recipe for so long because I thought it had a daunting list of ingredients. After all, the ingredients take up most of the page, and the directions are awkwardly crammed into the tiny space that remains. <p></p><p>But really, the only thing we didn't already have at home was the chopped dates. Now, the last time we used the extra-nice dates in a recipe, that turned out to be a pointless extravagance. So this time, I skipped the fancy produce aisle and got these.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uri120Hy-8UZj6PUrxrTHM1laGlDo3vPhHXQHiQdviaSNQ7dNW-Ng-llQd9vuQRBdLpZhcLEXZCtrW2gXzaNOrUoVaKqAX7dJlLNzU2I2AG4Ub_G1G_WLLGp9bY07B5YI0yhQ4sH8QeHQ7QdCOvnsPfZZuxBNjBwdq10piriWgiNlSPoPeMmc9khRd1T/s4096/IMG_20231209_001608483.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uri120Hy-8UZj6PUrxrTHM1laGlDo3vPhHXQHiQdviaSNQ7dNW-Ng-llQd9vuQRBdLpZhcLEXZCtrW2gXzaNOrUoVaKqAX7dJlLNzU2I2AG4Ub_G1G_WLLGp9bY07B5YI0yhQ4sH8QeHQ7QdCOvnsPfZZuxBNjBwdq10piriWgiNlSPoPeMmc9khRd1T/s320/IMG_20231209_001608483.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />It wounded my soul that no store-brand dates (chopped or otherwise) were available.
<p></p><p>
Anyway, I figured that this recipe would go a lot easier if I had everything measured out ahead of time. With simple recipes, it's usually no big deal to stop midway and measure out the flour. But while this recipe has a short set of instructions, it has a long list of ingredients.</p><p>
This is the surprisingly small allowance of fruit and nuts that goes into the cookies: a handful each of dates and raisins. I always imagined that the recipe called for so much dried fruit that the cookie dough would barely hold them together. I mean, it is called <i>"fruit</i> cookies."<br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrxH2HVDvmEDr3q6C0qa6t6vcI8lONs0BO-M_RPlIbNW1PRZt17ivKo2MfhBYsZlvS9ss8GwNMYBdFnA6NWNVpnLSL_jlcQadK8cWl4Hz9tPmW1M7fxY0Vxy6T54NcmFbbbl-4d3BsL-AK8XJ9ReDttyPtACKx6AiQLcDbM87XKPPf0FuOMeDTS0UVxXMA/s4096/IMG_20231209_001712831.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrxH2HVDvmEDr3q6C0qa6t6vcI8lONs0BO-M_RPlIbNW1PRZt17ivKo2MfhBYsZlvS9ss8GwNMYBdFnA6NWNVpnLSL_jlcQadK8cWl4Hz9tPmW1M7fxY0Vxy6T54NcmFbbbl-4d3BsL-AK8XJ9ReDttyPtACKx6AiQLcDbM87XKPPf0FuOMeDTS0UVxXMA/s320/IMG_20231209_001712831.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Setting the unexpectedly small fruit bowl aside, we also needed to measure out some assorted spices. The only annoying one was the cloves because I had to grind them myself. I didn't do this because think fresh-ground cloves taste magically better. We grind our own cloves because the last time I needed to buy them, the store only had whole cloves in stock. The pre-ground ones were all bought up and sold out. <p></p><p>And so, every recipe that calls for cloves will involve a little detour with the spice grinder until the end of time. I don't necessarily mind this (fresh-ground cloves do taste a bit better if you have a grinder). But it does annoy me that we have to grind our own cloves because I bought them for what proved to be <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2021/03/sweet-cherry-ham-bake-or-ive-been.html" target="_blank">one of the blandest recipes</a> ever featured on A Book of Cookrye.
</p><p>
Anyway, the last ingredient we needed was the first on the list: "1 cup fat." Because we at A Book of Cookrye are always economizing, we only had one viable option: beef fat. This way, we didn't have to pay for butter or for shortening. </p><p>I can't believe I'm about to say this, but you can't tell something is fishy when a dessert contains beef fat. I even <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2021/09/cow-cookies.html" target="_blank">swapped beef fat for butter in a batch of shortbread cookies</a> (a recipe that has no spices to camouflage an unexpected intrusion of cow) and brought them to a family gathering without telling anyone what was in them. No one suspected a thing.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJxijTaY1B7uU85IU_moV-cef7GqMxhD5_-TmZqt0srn1DlfOIlJJ060qOtpcKcyCLfYrLeCgS_oJjFed8Q6YAhCTYH0kiuEq_ZSEEX-jmRRUarcDAdc_anNS9b0PmHtQk3N0Z67INWcrzkR56Bq6Qpt1KZD0wOWZrHj6LgxE2L03si3tLi1NLb1SMPBkh/s4096/IMG_20231208_235217958.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJxijTaY1B7uU85IU_moV-cef7GqMxhD5_-TmZqt0srn1DlfOIlJJ060qOtpcKcyCLfYrLeCgS_oJjFed8Q6YAhCTYH0kiuEq_ZSEEX-jmRRUarcDAdc_anNS9b0PmHtQk3N0Z67INWcrzkR56Bq6Qpt1KZD0wOWZrHj6LgxE2L03si3tLi1NLb1SMPBkh/s320/IMG_20231208_235217958.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Anyway, this recipe starts off the way so many do: creaming the "butter" and sugar. Our recipe writer's handwriting, like my own, is a bit hard to read in some places. Sometimes you have to make a guess based on two recognizable letters. I always thought that the long squiggle before the word sugar meant "confectioners sugar." But upon close examination, it seems more like "dark brown" sugar. I wouldn't have figured that out had I not noticed a space halfway through what I previously thought was a single long word.
<p></p><p>
After we got the fat and sugar nicely creamed together, it looked oddly like the beginning of a graham cracker crust. And it didn't taste beefy at all.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NdsIHgXf-eIek9oe7sYjrTB26NrMfr1UAmzYeJyNsbZxxw6lgWc8mPq-Mt5l6TeZ_Z8iXDGKedFJWeaH3ej6Nj0C8Uc1M6mnwxrRx5GZddpAB4J_rU7zjArHBbIQb7r0vRoJV-TykCrXAXYm4oics60_sf2mWr19somMGnafSq5IsKCOr6fOTGeS_cFs/s4096/IMG_20231209_001815579.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NdsIHgXf-eIek9oe7sYjrTB26NrMfr1UAmzYeJyNsbZxxw6lgWc8mPq-Mt5l6TeZ_Z8iXDGKedFJWeaH3ej6Nj0C8Uc1M6mnwxrRx5GZddpAB4J_rU7zjArHBbIQb7r0vRoJV-TykCrXAXYm4oics60_sf2mWr19somMGnafSq5IsKCOr6fOTGeS_cFs/s320/IMG_20231209_001815579.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />After the egg was nicely mixed in, we got to the one ingredient that really shows this recipe's age: a spoonful of cream. Back when this recipe was written into the back of the book, milk was not homogenized. This meant you could easily pour a little cream off the top of the bottle to go in your cookies or your mashed potatoes. </p><p>But if you're using cream for anything today, you have to go out and buy it. Since no one wants to buy a whole carton of cream and barely use any of it, you just don't see recipes calling for the occasional spoon or splash of cream these days.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUEXHTWD_wKTD8mdJ_SOQNY1O9X9zQpeTwoC6EOTl2s-adQcS46QaqQ4kr7Lp37xO7NkcGMkaNHPKh_pXRRyzaCWx2wwNyhQn_z-FSib2iUAxRddYLvFTWGQT4jk2mKajTgCwqSwKo2YMSu3LUa97oBVBPgT7E7izUmvjrIqBGORoIESHbJKjutE9rBuP/s4096/IMG_20231209_002002804.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUEXHTWD_wKTD8mdJ_SOQNY1O9X9zQpeTwoC6EOTl2s-adQcS46QaqQ4kr7Lp37xO7NkcGMkaNHPKh_pXRRyzaCWx2wwNyhQn_z-FSib2iUAxRddYLvFTWGQT4jk2mKajTgCwqSwKo2YMSu3LUa97oBVBPgT7E7izUmvjrIqBGORoIESHbJKjutE9rBuP/s320/IMG_20231209_002002804.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Now that our cookie batter was nice and creamy, it was time to add the flour. This resulted in a firm yet slightly sticky cookie dough. When I worked a little bit of it between my hands, it felt like the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/08/walnut-cookies-or-stick-to-pecans.html" target="_blank">cookie recipes</a> we <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/05/lemon-cream-cookies-or-if-you-ate-liver.html" target="_blank">clipped from</a> the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/08/sugar-cookies-or-nutmeg-is-key-to.html" target="_blank">1930s newspapers</a>. Maybe that spoonful of cream alters the cookies just a little bit. Or maybe this was the type of cookie that people preferred in those days, cream or not.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtYu261P_TSBW8bZQdKr8QFrvQDXDgoteWXDr-ld3YXM_caSVI_8BwX-Z2vnubuukeVe9BSWWPUHeFYrNy_DdG49P48JTxK6_aG8piegabO1w1_Ray7MK1dMdqM85JRNEPLtkHcRkTXUcreB51-XWCW26cx2aSDLG0ZbF9LGs4JtmZ7pJCcuQX3eA86BqG/s4096/IMG_20231209_002239202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtYu261P_TSBW8bZQdKr8QFrvQDXDgoteWXDr-ld3YXM_caSVI_8BwX-Z2vnubuukeVe9BSWWPUHeFYrNy_DdG49P48JTxK6_aG8piegabO1w1_Ray7MK1dMdqM85JRNEPLtkHcRkTXUcreB51-XWCW26cx2aSDLG0ZbF9LGs4JtmZ7pJCcuQX3eA86BqG/s320/IMG_20231209_002239202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At any rate, it was time to put the fruit into the fruit cookies. Our dates, raisins, and nuts started out as a big mound that dwarfed the as-yet-unfruited dough behind it, but completely disappeared after we mixed them in. Afterward, our cookie dough tasted like raisin-studded gingerbread.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErDTpYzkaXXKgDiBdjwGBiQ29BLgzv5IvBDs61wY4qWZIE3pqGg7IslqLX7vLE7vt1R_uFyTDLAmpo5kwU2h-g12CK771wC9JHb5AkXe7tB9pgoqEIyp_gMw-ePVEtixqHqOztjITnzg6RQZrHiSWYQWNTdSBXbbVrEILEssG0MSK13MzOjHQ3D7M2yYu/s4096/IMG_20231209_002447807.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErDTpYzkaXXKgDiBdjwGBiQ29BLgzv5IvBDs61wY4qWZIE3pqGg7IslqLX7vLE7vt1R_uFyTDLAmpo5kwU2h-g12CK771wC9JHb5AkXe7tB9pgoqEIyp_gMw-ePVEtixqHqOztjITnzg6RQZrHiSWYQWNTdSBXbbVrEILEssG0MSK13MzOjHQ3D7M2yYu/s320/IMG_20231209_002447807.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I wasn't sure how you're supposed to shape the cookies. Should they be little balls that spread out on their own, or did we need to flatten the cookies ourselves? After all, if the dough spreads on its own, then pre-flattening it would give us sad, thin sheets of cookie paper. But if the dough doesn't spread, we would have mound-shaped cookies. I decided try both on the first batch so that at least half of the cookies would come out right.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbZ8jkj9zvMhNDAHcooRmZr4AoV9-rgZ0o3gTvH-RJNVnKt39aZmKhv75YGcB9db9W-ArXQ0LjbqlwrumAiXLX9UZqqXp7ZQ8WYfbUb_XSTRAXzHZ7WGWaP6CdrJH6-JmKyaAGESs6MAu7n_1ph2MczNlAfEPdkGh9nxVD24C7Zxr6lEksOSx1n_DYLVH/s4096/IMG_20231209_003053389.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbZ8jkj9zvMhNDAHcooRmZr4AoV9-rgZ0o3gTvH-RJNVnKt39aZmKhv75YGcB9db9W-ArXQ0LjbqlwrumAiXLX9UZqqXp7ZQ8WYfbUb_XSTRAXzHZ7WGWaP6CdrJH6-JmKyaAGESs6MAu7n_1ph2MczNlAfEPdkGh9nxVD24C7Zxr6lEksOSx1n_DYLVH/s320/IMG_20231209_003053389.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />It turns out that the fruit cookies do spread on their own, but only a little. Like peanut butter cookies, they need a bit of a starting push. Our ball cookies turned into domes, and the pre-flattened cookies turned out perfect. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1KUI8vsPvJjC_AQEQkKDdOnpEgUkq1pv33gnxrRpdQR6eb67OonJmCxvDROG5GZSo_m9qjJ_kPx-vwSZBk4zp9TOBVshrdXmi9VymK175YW0SWinjMw5Vitp__QmDecQlVKWfE0BYoSQJpl0snZSoFYKsdTBjhi_9FbiOpFz3r6H-CWxj0g2_YWRVZr7/s4096/IMG_20231209_004314329.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1KUI8vsPvJjC_AQEQkKDdOnpEgUkq1pv33gnxrRpdQR6eb67OonJmCxvDROG5GZSo_m9qjJ_kPx-vwSZBk4zp9TOBVshrdXmi9VymK175YW0SWinjMw5Vitp__QmDecQlVKWfE0BYoSQJpl0snZSoFYKsdTBjhi_9FbiOpFz3r6H-CWxj0g2_YWRVZr7/s320/IMG_20231209_004314329.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />However, the 12 minute baking time written on the page was too long. The cookies weren't burnt, but they were harder than they needed to be. Also, our recipe says to bake in "a hot oven," but I think I overestimated the temperature the first time. I baked the first batch at 400°, but the cookies came out better after I lowered it to 375°.
<p></p><p>
I was a little surprised at how understated the fruit was. After all, these are called "fruit cookies." But they tasted more like spice cookies with some extra things stirred in.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_c5AquHQX_EiEljPGGBUzWyD8FXeLnb8bM5u4zbS0NJZPV2Xe37z0Erp68WquPn38WL8jfWgjdRrOS-nont4K3_I50xOvp3XXpB0fYk420BvMgrkjGOZIsQg5po-yB1hTeEKT_xDGtSNlMUEaEp28M6lWppxz5F02r3zuUMLSJqRT2Pxf04rY9HNYipd/s4096/IMG_20231209_035308520.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_c5AquHQX_EiEljPGGBUzWyD8FXeLnb8bM5u4zbS0NJZPV2Xe37z0Erp68WquPn38WL8jfWgjdRrOS-nont4K3_I50xOvp3XXpB0fYk420BvMgrkjGOZIsQg5po-yB1hTeEKT_xDGtSNlMUEaEp28M6lWppxz5F02r3zuUMLSJqRT2Pxf04rY9HNYipd/s320/IMG_20231209_035308520.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<p>Aside from a less-than-expected fruitiness, the fruit cookies were a bit underwhelming right out of the oven, but they were fantastic the next day. I'll never understand why the spices hide for a day in recipes like this. When you eat the cookie dough, it tastes deliciously spiced. But then when you bake it, the cookies taste like blandness with some molasses. But after you let the cookies sit for a day, the spices come back. We saw that happen with our <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/02/golden-treasure-pudding-or-do-you-trust.html" target="_blank">Golden Treasure Pudding</a> and also the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2019/12/gingerbread-or-of-course-we-did-this-on.html" target="_blank">gingerbread</a>.
</p><p></p><p>
At any rate, this recipe makes a <i>lot</i> of cookies. And fittingly enough, they're easy to store. You can just drop them into a bag with no fear of breakage. And while they're in a bag, you can give them away. I like using cheap bags to give away food. It means the recipient cannot possibly worry about whether I want the container back.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cU6bEhrJG6_lyxwbh7X0Lby8BLfMhDDHIGwGeCxGLLxUyN9SuH4ogyw7chsms5Qy8DGXDgoi6nYAJGu_nEXp2zGkTWpu1bygXMWHd_HNqXRuhTcHLRm8zXrmJCukKYXgmD6GOSsIOty7MGpKsyg7oB6HeBOHKWMYioCFJQCFuEeK-FiN0uhCendcjPKM/s4096/IMG_20231209_040019251.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cU6bEhrJG6_lyxwbh7X0Lby8BLfMhDDHIGwGeCxGLLxUyN9SuH4ogyw7chsms5Qy8DGXDgoi6nYAJGu_nEXp2zGkTWpu1bygXMWHd_HNqXRuhTcHLRm8zXrmJCukKYXgmD6GOSsIOty7MGpKsyg7oB6HeBOHKWMYioCFJQCFuEeK-FiN0uhCendcjPKM/s320/IMG_20231209_040019251.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />I've noticed that a lot of our 1930s cookies seem like they're meant to sit for several days in cookie jars or other containers that don't seal as well as modern plastic ones. They tend to be sturdier than many recipes from this millennium, and also resist going stale for an impressively long time. <br /><p></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_c5AquHQX_EiEljPGGBUzWyD8FXeLnb8bM5u4zbS0NJZPV2Xe37z0Erp68WquPn38WL8jfWgjdRrOS-nont4K3_I50xOvp3XXpB0fYk420BvMgrkjGOZIsQg5po-yB1hTeEKT_xDGtSNlMUEaEp28M6lWppxz5F02r3zuUMLSJqRT2Pxf04rY9HNYipd/s4096/IMG_20231209_035308520.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_c5AquHQX_EiEljPGGBUzWyD8FXeLnb8bM5u4zbS0NJZPV2Xe37z0Erp68WquPn38WL8jfWgjdRrOS-nont4K3_I50xOvp3XXpB0fYk420BvMgrkjGOZIsQg5po-yB1hTeEKT_xDGtSNlMUEaEp28M6lWppxz5F02r3zuUMLSJqRT2Pxf04rY9HNYipd/s320/IMG_20231209_035308520.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>These cookies were delicious, and good enough to give away. (Since it's Christmastime, it's socially acceptable to give away unsolicited sweets. Any other time of the year, people look at you funny.) But these cookies weren't merely good enough to give away, they were good enough to give to people we would see again. </p><p>It feels so nice to liberate this recipe from between the pages of a cookbook that is in an archive's protective custody and will probably never see the inside of a kitchen again. Like <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/04/elizabeths-rolls-made-easier.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth's Rolls</a>, these cookies are too good to leave on a bookshelf.<br /></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-11986299576384319602023-12-20T06:50:00.000-08:002023-12-21T04:40:21.443-08:00Cinnamon Wafers: or, Getting to know our new archaic kitchen implements<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0osQEw7G3vFynZxTIKi0eUaafPSmZDdnwqXWC3yB9fGxGfJzQKqG2qqbufwSfI03G9dh1flCBNRPcjTZRHhVyAtqayszle0xWb3Zo885mV_opvk2OEEk82T1jeQo7kK8avNgeURwTQ179tuEUc-d2gjAT7QaMAt6KaIFRIsQHMvAidU9nlfflpVchZb7/s4096/IMG_20230302_012120723.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>This recipe starts with the waffle iron I never got to borrow.</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Cinnamon Wafers</b><br /><!--the version we've been doing-->
81g white or brown sugar (about 5 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons)<br />
75g butter (a sliver more than 5 tablespoons)<br />
Cinnamon to taste<br />
⅛ tsp salt (if butter is unsalted)<br />
115g flour (about 1 cup--- you probably won't use it all)<br />
<br />
Cream the butter, sugar, cinnamon, and salt, beating until very light. Add enough flour to make a dough that is firm but not dry. If you add too much flour, you can add milk (one spoonful at a time) to fix it.<br />
Let the dough sit in the bowl for 30 or so minutes- it will be less crumbly and easier to work with.<br />
Roll into small (1 inch or so) balls, then roll each one flat with a rolling pin. Cook on a preheated pizzelle, krumkake, or wafer iron until done.
<br /><br />
To remove crumbs, let the iron cool off, then clean it with an old toothbrush.
<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Maladapted from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=IJzerkoekje&oldid=1102115057" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a></span></div>
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>I was visiting my then-significant other (the "then-" prefix is foreshadowing), and his mother had made pizzelles. For those who are unfamiliar with Italian cooking, pizzelles are practically an event. "My mom made pizzelles" isn't a casual statement. It is an announcement of grave importance. From my brief visits to people with Italian relatives, it seems that pizzelles are practically a ritual that happens to produce food.
</p><p>
Anyway, his aunt said that she had her mother's (viz. my ex's grandmother's) pizzelle iron in the basement. Sure enough, there it lay in a neatly labeled plastic storage bin next to the box of cookie cutters, carefully stored with a sheet of wax paper pressed inside it. In a clear plastic bag neatly affixed to the handle, we found his grandmother's recipe in her handwriting. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTgsEA2Vzrve6HlPK4GKsz8B2UwUwyM4fCDQrCvyBLgrNKzi5IMuNfHFjUdNCPB2qwh2UjLlGvMEdf9pQSLMjrTFkuuyaKX62TGgU2CCZgYAdDuB43k3NgyIsnOadYDowN1l30JWv5L6u_fgn4Y_4W3qprI8fKM5cv2f0xPaOFODhCn-y2fR75OBNDEVY/s4032/20191224_123008.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTgsEA2Vzrve6HlPK4GKsz8B2UwUwyM4fCDQrCvyBLgrNKzi5IMuNfHFjUdNCPB2qwh2UjLlGvMEdf9pQSLMjrTFkuuyaKX62TGgU2CCZgYAdDuB43k3NgyIsnOadYDowN1l30JWv5L6u_fgn4Y_4W3qprI8fKM5cv2f0xPaOFODhCn-y2fR75OBNDEVY/s320/20191224_123008.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Naturally, I wanted to use this as soon as I saw it--- even though there were already pizzelles upstairs. The pizzelle iron had lodged itself in my mind. Some months later, I asked if he might borrow the pizzelle iron from his aunt who currently has custody of it. I never dared think she'd give it away, but I hoped she might lend it to her own kin. She wouldn't. I was like "But you're her own nephew! And it's not like we're asking to keep it!" <p></p><p>Nevertheless, there would be no pizzelles made on that iron. Seeing perfectly good cookware boxed away like barely-wanted collectibles makes me a bit sad, but my friend's grandmother's pizzelle iron is fated to rest unused in the basement.
</p><p>
You might think that would be the end of the matter, but I patiently waited until my birthday rolled around and I was asked what I wanted. I said I wanted a stovetop pizzelle iron. And of course, I wanted to make the first batch of pizzelles on it together. <br /></p><p>Purely for the heck of it, I searched for "stovetop pizzelle iron" on
Ebay, and several irons just like the one in his aunt's basement turned
up on the first page of results. In other words, getting a matching pizzelle iron was about as difficult
as finding an avocado-colored Crock Pot just like someone's great-aunt used to
have: not an instantaneous find, but easy nonetheless. <br /></p><p>
When I announced my birthday wish, he said "But I have my mother's."
</p><p>
"I don't care."
</p><p>
"Hers is electric."
</p><p>
"So?"
</p><p>
"My mom's makes two at a time."
</p><p>
"I don't care!"
</p><p>
(This sounded a lot more banter-y than it probably looks when written down.)
</p><p>He didn't get me a waffle iron just like his grandmother's, but I was given this instead. I would later find out it's Norwegian instead of Italian, but I don't mind. Sometimes if you beg and badger hard enough, you get the present you want. Or at least close enough to it. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6yTqO8UsF3djjDZ_MhcKXXM-6IPlc3VbpnL7eXPk9k3o5s7BBGz2EOCONNLto6cUpGccM7qOBIW8hPMhqVItP8cMW1ZT3cWmxUDRjGI1Hfhtt1rmJ6zsOd3zpXPxUoThY2oBJLunuoVVHQEbxtRcMCkUEFvG_09Ne38qzIcONaT8brdjcq-a7dX2t33NL/s4096/IMG_20230107_160457573.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6yTqO8UsF3djjDZ_MhcKXXM-6IPlc3VbpnL7eXPk9k3o5s7BBGz2EOCONNLto6cUpGccM7qOBIW8hPMhqVItP8cMW1ZT3cWmxUDRjGI1Hfhtt1rmJ6zsOd3zpXPxUoThY2oBJLunuoVVHQEbxtRcMCkUEFvG_09Ne38qzIcONaT8brdjcq-a7dX2t33NL/s320/IMG_20230107_160457573.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />To get acquainted with our new friend, I decided to make the most low-stakes I could think of: instant waffle mix. We promptly discovered that one must be <i>very</i> careful when rationing batter on a stovetop waffle iron. On electric ones, any excess batter harmlessly oozes out and makes an inconvenient mess. However, this heirloom-quality piece of kitchen history had fire directly underneath it. On our first attempt, I saw the batter seep out of the iron and thought "That will be annoying to clean up---- SHIT SHIT SHIT OH SHIT"
<p></p><p>
After the smoke cleared away, I tried to convince myself that the singed edges were rustic.
</p><p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVa_J9ALZB7uQQ638Md2bUHLopUUGD3fbuMDqUtl2JodAC7sYGXBTxBFO6T0jsMuvW9m9Q8OoP3E6HFlN3PwnIgzCYljJcaQ6YdzjAmCZVeUUTeHrK5_x-pagrcdJNC-aioSp9Wg1_Yc-XfDt_w2KSGzH3JxuCxbnU9yjuJ-yXflqmv3RejYic06fnpHLW/s4096/IMG_20230107_161021798.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVa_J9ALZB7uQQ638Md2bUHLopUUGD3fbuMDqUtl2JodAC7sYGXBTxBFO6T0jsMuvW9m9Q8OoP3E6HFlN3PwnIgzCYljJcaQ6YdzjAmCZVeUUTeHrK5_x-pagrcdJNC-aioSp9Wg1_Yc-XfDt_w2KSGzH3JxuCxbnU9yjuJ-yXflqmv3RejYic06fnpHLW/s320/IMG_20230107_161021798.jpg" width="320" /></a> </p><p>A few days after I got the iron, my not-yet-ex called and asked how it and I were getting along. I told him that I had reconstituted waffle mix so that I could first get accustomed to the iron before making anyone's grandmother's pizzelle recipe. His voice got very dark.
</p><p>
"That is <i>not</i> how you make pizzelles." From the menacing tone in his voice, you'd think I told him I'd smashed his mother's homemade cake to make cake balls.
</p><p>
Regardless of how sacrilegious it is to put pancake mix on a pizzelle iron, I couldn't bring myself to make his grandmother's pizzelle recipe. I would feel perfectly comfortable making any other pizzelle recipe I found online, but I didn't want to posthumously disappoint his grandmother. This brings us to a recipe I found purely accident on Wikipedia.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJWa8DX5j90uGdp2MYcGVKdHdqfFEjdo8PYuZ6kBenSoTSeTFzmXW8lL6Fky8mJXxofMT9KMyVizJeZzyAiHvF7uS0tj5TyS14UENWgbUIxFrd_3TbCRlb9uI7GYNEFF1V1U_28q0Vq5UC7S1erT7DMItBySj4yBc9a7KSLsxdW2I3HBnu765yROHPj-A/s2074/Ijzerkoekje.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2074" data-original-width="584" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJWa8DX5j90uGdp2MYcGVKdHdqfFEjdo8PYuZ6kBenSoTSeTFzmXW8lL6Fky8mJXxofMT9KMyVizJeZzyAiHvF7uS0tj5TyS14UENWgbUIxFrd_3TbCRlb9uI7GYNEFF1V1U_28q0Vq5UC7S1erT7DMItBySj4yBc9a7KSLsxdW2I3HBnu765yROHPj-A/s320/Ijzerkoekje.PNG" width="90" /></a></div><br />Have you ever heard of ijzerkoekjes? I hadn't either. The Wikipedia page reads like the primary author did not speak English well but really wanted the non-Dutch-speaking world to know about ijzerkoekjes. ("Ijzerkoekjes" translates, more or less, to "waffle iron cookies.") The article notes that these have a "high calorie density, suitable for
sailors and others on the sea." <p></p><p></p><p>For those of you whose Dutch pronunciation just as nonexistent as mine, here is Google Translate telling us how to say the name of today's recipe.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxZThTAKgDSHeLOEzZSC0Q5Jh72dzKynW9mxLkUo_n0eOAs1sGvs9PpqztPRhdmoqRJAoj_WNNoXltxdeldEA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />I would say it feels like a big honor to possibly introduce this recipe to the English-speaking world, but I am quite sure I will make them wrong. <p></p><p>Ineptitude aside, I really wanted to try these cookies that someone wrote onto a Wikipedia page. Apparently someone really wanted to put this recipe out for the non-Dutch world. Therefore, the recipe needed to come off of the computer screen and into the kitchen.
Anyway, we had the iron, we had the
recipe, and we were (hopefully) ready to go!</p><p></p><p>
The recipe seemed simple enough: basically shortbread with cinnamon in it. However, the original ingredient amounts make a <i>lot</i> of ijzerkoekjes. Naturally, we scaled the recipe down a lot. Since the recipe uses no eggs, it was delightfully easy to cut the recipe to whatever tiny quantity we wanted. Also, because the recipe gives the ingredient by weight, rescaling the ingredients was easier than usual. (Apparently we in America are among the very few who measure flour by volume.)
</p><p>
Things went swimmingly until we added the flour, at which point our ijzerkoekje dough turned into a crumbly mess. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCz9nG6rU6JPA8sUpFqQS-7qNf_k5aClXORM7-pkneWWRfX89xyadBO5kZFnQEtCdswbIbm4lZz05Rq1W3eP_bMOSX1MOrL71d_cnm9osXIDfBZDpNAMBQrcmWxs1Qn4UIBTasHyKnkOiPzADfbxH1EfLG9Y-uC-FMLar0LyQ-yNwlxUlw2FfEgXFuUWby/s4096/IMG_20230114_003049127.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCz9nG6rU6JPA8sUpFqQS-7qNf_k5aClXORM7-pkneWWRfX89xyadBO5kZFnQEtCdswbIbm4lZz05Rq1W3eP_bMOSX1MOrL71d_cnm9osXIDfBZDpNAMBQrcmWxs1Qn4UIBTasHyKnkOiPzADfbxH1EfLG9Y-uC-FMLar0LyQ-yNwlxUlw2FfEgXFuUWby/s320/IMG_20230114_003049127.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At first I thought it was supposed to look like that. Then I saw that the next instruction is to get out a rolling pin. Well, there was absolutely no way we could turn this into a rolled-out anything. We could have crumbled it up and sprinkled it onto a fruit cobbler, but it was not going to become cookies. I decided to cheat and add little splashes of milk until the dough was fit to act like the recipe purported.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGLxjdGKzgmLnE0JIJy-t851fjGUuKNyQREi3VKoIVi9O_nTev23K3MOVIZ0_H0XefbK3LoezIGIj8T649Zsl0QFljmc3rtMZd0M0SlhUkRiE7RgfG7cRuVhy3yqPJ9Ho33lu0Yr6tAS5tclT9W6nOMsjfM3iiPmVTCbYegu52kuSBVa-9SbHkm2kSAhF/s4096/IMG_20230114_004210538.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGLxjdGKzgmLnE0JIJy-t851fjGUuKNyQREi3VKoIVi9O_nTev23K3MOVIZ0_H0XefbK3LoezIGIj8T649Zsl0QFljmc3rtMZd0M0SlhUkRiE7RgfG7cRuVhy3yqPJ9Ho33lu0Yr6tAS5tclT9W6nOMsjfM3iiPmVTCbYegu52kuSBVa-9SbHkm2kSAhF/s320/IMG_20230114_004210538.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I've never made cookies on of these stovetop irons before, so I rolled the dough into a sort of tortilla-looking thing and laid it into place. At this moment, as I closed the sizzling-hot iron on our dough, I realized that I had no idea how long to leave the cookie dough in it.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwUFqjig31uYrzZrIV6Ckt-bLnxEPsbBU1nYpGZbuHpPo2RMZEXMIxr_Cxt2K__VwAwwFT_G8J4wRLzj0zbrR8jPzN6o9QkuD1YSeaIyb4Nu28bhRZ0JDZ_8zQnrpVWw8OLMV9ivwezDvgRVHvtInnHu42pCK5Wc07KMsg834yqi7A-K_Avsg7Dqeddj5/s4096/IMG_20230114_004321734.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwUFqjig31uYrzZrIV6Ckt-bLnxEPsbBU1nYpGZbuHpPo2RMZEXMIxr_Cxt2K__VwAwwFT_G8J4wRLzj0zbrR8jPzN6o9QkuD1YSeaIyb4Nu28bhRZ0JDZ_8zQnrpVWw8OLMV9ivwezDvgRVHvtInnHu42pCK5Wc07KMsg834yqi7A-K_Avsg7Dqeddj5/s320/IMG_20230114_004321734.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The dough pushed the iron up a lot more than I expected. I've never considered the uneven thickness of waffles before. But if you give it any thought, the waffles must be a lot thinner on the side of the iron with the hinge, and a lot thicker on the side opposite. After all, when the batter pushes up the top of a waffle iron, the iron doesn't lift straight up. Instead, it opens like Pac-Man, with one side rising while the other does not. I saw results of this when I opened the iron to reveal our first-ever wafer on this iron. One side was beautiful, the other was burnt. <br /><p></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MS_AZSMOLuiPgN2oWntRBYPFMgxuT21qwkHHtEKepBSwh63aNvM_WwQrbZii7Y8PlxnO1flmyz0I9f-5WOqtcKNKazMHEw7xkR7Cbt-UCpZU7xSx1hMTAfVXlzH-bXVlzLP1k_UN3TiKh1yrQHtA6RFo0VWwI0oRPd6SRJI5Oc78hD1idFL0NsYPtj7U/s4096/IMG_20230114_004916542.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MS_AZSMOLuiPgN2oWntRBYPFMgxuT21qwkHHtEKepBSwh63aNvM_WwQrbZii7Y8PlxnO1flmyz0I9f-5WOqtcKNKazMHEw7xkR7Cbt-UCpZU7xSx1hMTAfVXlzH-bXVlzLP1k_UN3TiKh1yrQHtA6RFo0VWwI0oRPd6SRJI5Oc78hD1idFL0NsYPtj7U/s320/IMG_20230114_004916542.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The cookies were floppy and fragile as wet toilet paper when it was hot, but became extremely rigid once it cooled.</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvQm6LPICdQv_By509VwMxvXstBxvPNR7C5sH7iVIkR1KvNQA3LiIzv14RutpNT_f17e27f2QqJv5fnXACW5wC_yiWlIVQVzS9yRSZMutQiStqXUojB2MK4fiE9XjITm1HncqhBI-es2MbsVY2yGqa_I-4vojZpm-X1-yY-wOnVIQzgrXbvk3J5kILdB8/s3848/IMG_20230114_004708034.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2904" data-original-width="3848" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvQm6LPICdQv_By509VwMxvXstBxvPNR7C5sH7iVIkR1KvNQA3LiIzv14RutpNT_f17e27f2QqJv5fnXACW5wC_yiWlIVQVzS9yRSZMutQiStqXUojB2MK4fiE9XjITm1HncqhBI-es2MbsVY2yGqa_I-4vojZpm-X1-yY-wOnVIQzgrXbvk3J5kILdB8/s320/IMG_20230114_004708034.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We also learned that fifteen seconds of cooking time can make a dramatic difference in the cookie.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7Us9GOnle7ZW7bendViZGEeZhkTALqmIjbRKQ0TL0fhG1ZPYGkpY99PFOiYoy6M_4XaeTa71OY38co36y3MnwIYN2PZRFoPYOsjEcjg3GK0oxL6jtcT0MFSI6u3tuFeedqkA7nA6n-wMMeKSMPD3J7zCA51nnw1Ixp9cwK8KAyzi-EwZfb_hzuM0NKlC/s3528/IMG_20230121_002050121.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2664" data-original-width="3528" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7Us9GOnle7ZW7bendViZGEeZhkTALqmIjbRKQ0TL0fhG1ZPYGkpY99PFOiYoy6M_4XaeTa71OY38co36y3MnwIYN2PZRFoPYOsjEcjg3GK0oxL6jtcT0MFSI6u3tuFeedqkA7nA6n-wMMeKSMPD3J7zCA51nnw1Ixp9cwK8KAyzi-EwZfb_hzuM0NKlC/s320/IMG_20230121_002050121.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Here I must note an interesting insight into human psychology. Every single person I showed these to (and I sent pictures to a lot of people) asked if I had tried making a bowl out of these. I would love to know why everyone wanted to see these as bowls. <p></p><p>Since I also wanted to make a cookie bowl, I rummaged the cabinet and found a bowl suitable to drape the next wafer onto. And of course, we filled it with ice cream. </p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10hQnh6Kj22b-Tdn-qhp5OVzUhAwP6tqT4ix_uPwWyAwHTPOcmGGbq0z9RdUVUCATt2fe-TJIlN8WuU3fdm-StlQe1ZAeGBqMRf4OQ75sMXrCPeKMR_dLZsu14AKFy6MweMJKc63Aw4tq-opXfSykVa1Ha3w3LpWq3GtzQJNKR-w_v-5pXeacn-5g2lkX/s3704/IMG_20230129_004023667.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2470" data-original-width="3704" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10hQnh6Kj22b-Tdn-qhp5OVzUhAwP6tqT4ix_uPwWyAwHTPOcmGGbq0z9RdUVUCATt2fe-TJIlN8WuU3fdm-StlQe1ZAeGBqMRf4OQ75sMXrCPeKMR_dLZsu14AKFy6MweMJKc63Aw4tq-opXfSykVa1Ha3w3LpWq3GtzQJNKR-w_v-5pXeacn-5g2lkX/s320/IMG_20230129_004023667.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Despite my cooking ineptitude, our definitely-not-ijzerkoekjes were really good. They're deliciously crunchy, lightly spiced, and perfect with tea or coffee.<p></p><p>I want to say they taste "very European," but I haven't been to Europe to try the food. However, they seem like something you'd get here in America from a restaurant that has "Euro" somewhere in the name. In other words, someone who has never been to Europe might say they're "quite continental."
</p><p>
And for those who want a bit of "euro flair" but have no idea what that is supposed to mean, we found that sticking shards of cookie into ice cream was adorably presentational. Also, when the ice cream soaked into the cookie, it was delicious.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPj2VRAAwhZLIaF23rl3_qcAUgzxxuo-qevzm37fF8IEeq7gkccFeKLLYvkv_3N0h_FfxxyiRgG6c3l-j3NvlQBNvcE5lyE2NB6x7caFokl_kqxTHKGd-owiK4h641bo4LOZeh6P6y2uKnjQHC1FWBmJ-eBtlQuSy5YiDrpxTX4y_-I2c5KIToWvxZxf_Y/s4096/IMG_20230114_010717311.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPj2VRAAwhZLIaF23rl3_qcAUgzxxuo-qevzm37fF8IEeq7gkccFeKLLYvkv_3N0h_FfxxyiRgG6c3l-j3NvlQBNvcE5lyE2NB6x7caFokl_kqxTHKGd-owiK4h641bo4LOZeh6P6y2uKnjQHC1FWBmJ-eBtlQuSy5YiDrpxTX4y_-I2c5KIToWvxZxf_Y/s320/IMG_20230114_010717311.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After several batches of delicious cinnamon wafers, I was confident enough in my stovetop-iron abilities to give them away. Also, our cookies tasted so good that we kept eating them before they had a chance to cool off. <p></p><p>However, a quick glance at one of the wafer-stacks I gave away shows that I still need to work on my timing. It'd be nice if they all darkened to the same color.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_CJAeihy1qjX9KIwROtsPHmkiWOfdeNDLdeiqsaGRI2nGpTodXaFMIFyMzeTWTUyA_bF4cQuhWD_v2aEFmAJFMGkRlEYZn01dB8wg9ZkVdwl-4uL5pEIshde0A-c1UCNzyT3P67N2rjHYPCMKqUM7DUEEyBmJBmXvF6m_bNUwG6Ld6bynYy8NxwwcLmNN/s3469/IMG_20230121_205835117.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2776" data-original-width="3469" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_CJAeihy1qjX9KIwROtsPHmkiWOfdeNDLdeiqsaGRI2nGpTodXaFMIFyMzeTWTUyA_bF4cQuhWD_v2aEFmAJFMGkRlEYZn01dB8wg9ZkVdwl-4uL5pEIshde0A-c1UCNzyT3P67N2rjHYPCMKqUM7DUEEyBmJBmXvF6m_bNUwG6Ld6bynYy8NxwwcLmNN/s320/IMG_20230121_205835117.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />If you want to try this at home, get an electric iron unless you <i>really</i> love doing things the old fashioned way (or if you want to make cookies on a camping trip). <p></p><p>If you are just as daft as me and want to do this on a stovetop iron, I can't recommend making these on a coil-top stove. No matter what I did, I had cooking spray dripping out from the edges of the iron. If you're using a gas stove, it is easy to turn off the flame and use a fork to push a paper towel around the burner and mop up the grease. If you attempt this on a coil-top stove, you will set the paper towel on fire (unless you wait for the coil to cool off first). </p><p>But with that said, these were absolutely fantastic. We've already made them multiple times. They're crisp, buttery, perfectly spiced, and entertaining to make. Of course, I am biased because I think waffle irons are fun for the whole family. However, people who don't share my views on kitchen devices also liked these a lot. After all, we had to give these away before we ate all of them ourselves.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0osQEw7G3vFynZxTIKi0eUaafPSmZDdnwqXWC3yB9fGxGfJzQKqG2qqbufwSfI03G9dh1flCBNRPcjTZRHhVyAtqayszle0xWb3Zo885mV_opvk2OEEk82T1jeQo7kK8avNgeURwTQ179tuEUc-d2gjAT7QaMAt6KaIFRIsQHMvAidU9nlfflpVchZb7/s4096/IMG_20230302_012120723.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0osQEw7G3vFynZxTIKi0eUaafPSmZDdnwqXWC3yB9fGxGfJzQKqG2qqbufwSfI03G9dh1flCBNRPcjTZRHhVyAtqayszle0xWb3Zo885mV_opvk2OEEk82T1jeQo7kK8avNgeURwTQ179tuEUc-d2gjAT7QaMAt6KaIFRIsQHMvAidU9nlfflpVchZb7/s320/IMG_20230302_012120723.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-45061663468768041342023-12-15T03:07:00.000-08:002023-12-15T05:05:14.715-08:00Pumpkin Spice Latte Bars: or, The autumn dreams I hoped for<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKShuyOMJGabMaLxbhhPBwugX_Fge-aU9h8Z1HcDhZHaWrVRUj4kKIjWSsRFidVwFyHJ7pi3zf2fJrrzelPRhlUyaAIK5W4lSRTEOfxHTc-Nhi93-QrxqWsYLq50SMjDXIeh5ewaPn9rWCTYgdXBM56aQvk5OZ2CKQevZgtEAyE39BPqv5mUrXhAQ6olby/s4096/IMG_20231123_181202200.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>As stores start aggressively shoving Jingle Bell Rock into our ears with a tinsel-covered spear, we at A Book of Cookrye will valiantly carry the nutmeg torch of autumn against the relentless flood of canned festivity!</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>"Pumpkin" Spice Latte Bars</b><br /><br />
Heat oven to 350°. <br />Grease a 9" square pan. Cut a square of parchment paper to fit the bottom, Press it firmly into place, eliminating as many air bubbles underneath as you can. Coat the top of the paper with cooking spray.<br /><br />
<i>"Pumpkin" layer:</i><br /><ul><li>
⅔ cup cooked and cooled carrots (firmly press and squish them into the measuring cup to measure)*</li><li>
⅔ cup milk</li><li>
1 egg</li><li>
⅓ cup white sugar</li><li>
2 tsp dark brown sugar</li><li>
¾ tsp cinnamon</li><li>
½ tsp cloves</li><li>
¼ tsp salt</li><li>
¼ tsp ginger</li></ul>
Place the carrots and the milk into a blender, and thoroughly liquefy. Add the egg, and blenderize until completely mixed.<br />
In a medium bowl, mix the sugar, salt, and spices. Be sure to break up any spice-clumps. Then pour in the blenderized carrots, and mix thoroughly. (If you have a large enough blender, you can simply add these to what's already in there and then blenderize everything some more.)<br /><br /><i>Brownie batter:</i><br /><ul><li>
4 tsp ground coffee</li><li>
1 tbsp white sugar</li><li>
½ cup butter or shortening</li><li>
1¼ cup brown sugar</li><li>
1 tsp baking powder</li><li>
½ tsp salt (omit if using salted butter)</li><li>
2 eggs</li><li>
2 tsp vanilla</li><li>
1½ cup flour</li></ul>
Place the coffee and white sugar in a spice grinder, and grind to a fine powder.<sup>†</sup> <br />
Melt the butter. Stir in the brown sugar, coffee-sugar, baking powder, and salt. Mix well. Then beat each egg in thoroughly, one at a time. Add the vanilla with one of the eggs. Then beat the whole mixture very well. Add the flour, stirring just until mixed.<br /><br />
<i>To assemble:</i><br />
Spread the brownie batter into the pan. Get it as flat and even as possible, because it won't level itself out the way brownies usually do. (You may find it easier to lightly spritz the top of the batter with cooking spray and then pat it smooth with your fingertips.) Then spread the "pumpkin" pie filling on top.<br />
Bake for 40-55 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with no liquid on it. Your testing-toothpick may have little clumps of brownie clinging to it. As long as there's no hot liquid on it, the brownies are done.<br />These are better the second day. The coffee flavor becomes stronger.
<br /><br /><br /><br />*You can boil or steam the carrots, but I suggest you microwave them instead. Cut them small enough that they fit inside a small bowl, add a spoonful of water, and cover with a wet paper towel. Microwave until fork-tender. Two carrots ended up being exactly the right amount for me, though results will vary depending on carrot size.<br /><br />
<sup>†</sup>If you don't have a spice grinder, you can use 1 tablespoon instant coffee instead. Put it in a small bowl and press the granules with your thumb until they are a fine powder. (This shouldn't take more than a minute.) Omit the white sugar, and increase the brown sugar to 1⅓ cups.
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>We at A Book of Cookrye dearly love both brownies and iced pumpkin-spice coffee. We also had a surplus of carrots. These we shoved into a blender in the name of our pumpkin-spice dreams. (The pie filling is from <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/12/pumpkin-tarts-or-its-always-pumpkin.html" target="_blank">our new favorite pumpkin pie recipe</a>.)<br /></p><p>
Our original idea was quite simple: we would make pumpkin pie filling, and a batch of brownie batter with coffee in it.
<!--I considered mixing the pumpkin (or carrots) into the brownie batter, but that always turns the brownies into a light and fluffy cake. I wanted dense, fudgy brownies.-->
We would then swirl the two in a pan like an autumn-themed marble cake, and bake until done. I considered that perhaps the pie filling and the brownie batter may not be done at the same time, which would either lead to dried-out brownies or overdone pie filling. (I'm actually not sure what happens to a pumpkin pie if you bake it too long without burning it, but I'm sure it's less than good.) But we decided to try this anyway.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTUzMdLt-9uv3onuEG_-GPnSRDUO8qHggL8nDEZwqIHEQvek42zWcbTUEebQj8hYbT_zwJmgMUI_lAhyphenhyphendjw8cJcAhsfTngsY3TPFIw7e8tT-sAL5cpt5j-8-PsYXpFmh3jIBCIql1066LUeMoUETvtMQPxMupH6sQpkmU-jjrSJCh_l7DLAAmij-gLfk4/s4096/IMG_20231113_225705761_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTUzMdLt-9uv3onuEG_-GPnSRDUO8qHggL8nDEZwqIHEQvek42zWcbTUEebQj8hYbT_zwJmgMUI_lAhyphenhyphendjw8cJcAhsfTngsY3TPFIw7e8tT-sAL5cpt5j-8-PsYXpFmh3jIBCIql1066LUeMoUETvtMQPxMupH6sQpkmU-jjrSJCh_l7DLAAmij-gLfk4/s320/IMG_20231113_225705761_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />Anyway, we started with the blondie recipe that came from Mom's Betty Crocker cookbook. We then added coffee, which dyed it an unexpectedly dark color. You'd almost think we added chocolate. We also took out a third of the sugar, but we've been doing that for years.<br /></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZdrbToFwoMcjizSQ9Dx0zY6ruMH5trMoGAZ3sUKTTvfWbh7jcZ3GDdb2kASwdeB3kxRuC2W16Qv83VmubJKhYCou7QYBxoeenNHDXP87DqmMv3T7MKCjv9lb90B9oLXG7wcCbTdAMv9LiRNPhBjs_KH_-tyDMpDZt3PebONSbZGAY2A_WFmwetV743kT/s4096/IMG_20231113_225757835_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZdrbToFwoMcjizSQ9Dx0zY6ruMH5trMoGAZ3sUKTTvfWbh7jcZ3GDdb2kASwdeB3kxRuC2W16Qv83VmubJKhYCou7QYBxoeenNHDXP87DqmMv3T7MKCjv9lb90B9oLXG7wcCbTdAMv9LiRNPhBjs_KH_-tyDMpDZt3PebONSbZGAY2A_WFmwetV743kT/s320/IMG_20231113_225757835_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Although today's perpetration involves essentially making two separate recipes, both of them are of the very simple "dump things into the bowl and stir" variety. The coffee brownies were ready in a short time, as was the "pumpkin" pie filling. The oven had barely finished heating up when we were done mixing everything. <p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN2PE5Nza7pX4ah9RkB3W-BtR5lk3FUC6eOtz3tE8JcOPk63e1-wDMPmUejjf7k5eKuXWwwiIlVBc-otnMie2Xn3lvWwEiCsrFvOcMPxgcKx0333MewkSl2O58LrB9gwheN-AN6Z2Xg2vpttlzKWnTBfrx_QiNxCUgWSBuwhrN4KckSJGYa4rVDictQoM0/s4096/IMG_20231113_230358313_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN2PE5Nza7pX4ah9RkB3W-BtR5lk3FUC6eOtz3tE8JcOPk63e1-wDMPmUejjf7k5eKuXWwwiIlVBc-otnMie2Xn3lvWwEiCsrFvOcMPxgcKx0333MewkSl2O58LrB9gwheN-AN6Z2Xg2vpttlzKWnTBfrx_QiNxCUgWSBuwhrN4KckSJGYa4rVDictQoM0/s320/IMG_20231113_230358313_HDR.jpg" width="240" /></a> <br /></p><p>
And so, we reached the point where we unite the two parts of this recipe into one autumnal whole! I started by irregularly dropping splats of brownie batter into a pan that ordinarily would have been too big for it. The coffee-infused batter was a particularly unfortunate shade of brown. It made me think of what a lot of <a href="https://www.housebeautiful.com/room-decorating/colors/news/a6294/ugliest-color-in-the-world/" target="_blank">people dramatically called "the world's ugliest color"</a> a few years ago. You know it looks bad because the Pantone people slapped on some French in a futile attempt to make it seem nicer. They may call this color "opaque couché," but it's still an ugly shade of brown. As were the coffee brownies.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacGG1-z69HIT_d8bMTYKHB39fDCBMN8kBZv6J1YAZtSlLY73cJWfGZoajJe3OLf58xWhsOw0F8uVfEkjLgYfK09t84dnm-eq6xfi5TH7H6RtaVTE_h2JyRWifpd4sf1lRpEWzu4ToVfnU9L0lteBu8oN2_8U9dL0DwCxfciWS24e68cN_EZMzxROKa2z2/s4096/IMG_20231113_230534375_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacGG1-z69HIT_d8bMTYKHB39fDCBMN8kBZv6J1YAZtSlLY73cJWfGZoajJe3OLf58xWhsOw0F8uVfEkjLgYfK09t84dnm-eq6xfi5TH7H6RtaVTE_h2JyRWifpd4sf1lRpEWzu4ToVfnU9L0lteBu8oN2_8U9dL0DwCxfciWS24e68cN_EZMzxROKa2z2/s320/IMG_20231113_230534375_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We poured in the pumpkin pie filling and immediately wondered if I made too much. It nearly covered the brownie batter, which sharply reduced our chances of enticing swirl patterns.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgObize2yxyODSJU80aGMPkxhVWFFBbpVHB-Wr6GMWaHVxJJnwqCwLsEplt4cB4gt3HLl0d2i66NRQFSTCSSzCcDML2nWbgF3Gilaxkk1daufxxUzcpTVr4iR5ki_-j-02B-ghgiLuEucQB-80Xl9OAvR7Bic-9rGRUfZ7MVxOGmE1Z0THiI989SvIDSrx3/s4096/IMG_20231113_230633829_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgObize2yxyODSJU80aGMPkxhVWFFBbpVHB-Wr6GMWaHVxJJnwqCwLsEplt4cB4gt3HLl0d2i66NRQFSTCSSzCcDML2nWbgF3Gilaxkk1daufxxUzcpTVr4iR5ki_-j-02B-ghgiLuEucQB-80Xl9OAvR7Bic-9rGRUfZ7MVxOGmE1Z0THiI989SvIDSrx3/s320/IMG_20231113_230633829_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>I soon wished I hadn't decided to try to make pretty, swirly, marble brownies. This looked perfectly fine, but it was not what I had hoped for.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUEiHHe_WjV5MBvLaVQU67nh-MhxeJsuuKPORqQwl-HLKMW3UzPNCB6N01l44KUuhDZQvo7VRAT2d3rG4diF3gjIJQa2PniPO2mGiyrbJGdX2CWmA5W1oDWGO19Xo-0J8tDCP5SPxW5Ew9h_YfMB58d8uSETgHsxIO91Pyj-35m9pgExyZ-0fDnVXl2nk5/s4096/IMG_20231113_230810670_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUEiHHe_WjV5MBvLaVQU67nh-MhxeJsuuKPORqQwl-HLKMW3UzPNCB6N01l44KUuhDZQvo7VRAT2d3rG4diF3gjIJQa2PniPO2mGiyrbJGdX2CWmA5W1oDWGO19Xo-0J8tDCP5SPxW5Ew9h_YfMB58d8uSETgHsxIO91Pyj-35m9pgExyZ-0fDnVXl2nk5/s320/IMG_20231113_230810670_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The two components of these brownies were surprisingly indistinguishable after baking.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInPsUZZRcpLgzJ3zWmE_ryLTqnpZhcBvt9GDJUmiC4nlN6GqDEi3NYQYaTdzGTSBh2qXA3BZRrY2tZGRku6hyPWF4Lyyn6RMAKqCOQ-VjSXpg8U7KOmkJl0YWDZ4-fm-71Qq34LmrpEzJKxILn037z5PibAmZrPgRToOzrSbowjsnY-iYXBxc5ojUDsWZ/s4096/IMG_20231113_234926214_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInPsUZZRcpLgzJ3zWmE_ryLTqnpZhcBvt9GDJUmiC4nlN6GqDEi3NYQYaTdzGTSBh2qXA3BZRrY2tZGRku6hyPWF4Lyyn6RMAKqCOQ-VjSXpg8U7KOmkJl0YWDZ4-fm-71Qq34LmrpEzJKxILn037z5PibAmZrPgRToOzrSbowjsnY-iYXBxc5ojUDsWZ/s320/IMG_20231113_234926214_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />While the top had browned to a nearly uniform color, I hoped to find some enticing swirls under the surface. But after cutting out some samples, we saw that the brownie and the pumpkin had become disappointingly homogeneous in the oven. <p></p><p>But while they were not the aesthetic triumph I hoped for, they tasted <i>exactly</i> like what I wanted. Eating these was as joyous as going to Starbucks when someone else is paying.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOVq8K9DDsHZJV-4PqLxfpWT4I-9n8pCAeFWOhn_K7W6x1o5tawt3-cGKmXZX8mXT9LLSttMf-dI_0j6XYZmepVwjFw68j2dGppB5QRblYI5T3rd67juRJulxILONAXGkYqUr8JY1PG0b5CyAOoJDX7Ri8G9rAS_F1Ibi8Q1tqWgYTyKgF9pYTL-nqq8Y/s4096/IMG_20231114_191215478_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOVq8K9DDsHZJV-4PqLxfpWT4I-9n8pCAeFWOhn_K7W6x1o5tawt3-cGKmXZX8mXT9LLSttMf-dI_0j6XYZmepVwjFw68j2dGppB5QRblYI5T3rd67juRJulxILONAXGkYqUr8JY1PG0b5CyAOoJDX7Ri8G9rAS_F1Ibi8Q1tqWgYTyKgF9pYTL-nqq8Y/s320/IMG_20231114_191215478_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />However, as much as I liked these brownies, I really wanted a multilayered appearance. I wanted them to <i>look</i> as multifaceted as they tasted. So instead of swirling the batter and the pie together, I decided to pour the pumpkin on top of the brownies. <p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Dmlkyogvs7NOWCob6wXXxIZ4ff2JfCmLJkerogfyVMJ6EW5CSj-9w2xFH1yIYOvWLOOee0LoCMErS7pK1WWEIEB3qYYRYFYxmaPzJhsP5kPVzMSMBH2PG_C0UZCZIllfdCz4PH5at4eCkirUcZHkPrBLutO68I5XJj28uym0awfG-uyXqkGdTg7upIVh/s4096/IMG_20231123_040303632.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Dmlkyogvs7NOWCob6wXXxIZ4ff2JfCmLJkerogfyVMJ6EW5CSj-9w2xFH1yIYOvWLOOee0LoCMErS7pK1WWEIEB3qYYRYFYxmaPzJhsP5kPVzMSMBH2PG_C0UZCZIllfdCz4PH5at4eCkirUcZHkPrBLutO68I5XJj28uym0awfG-uyXqkGdTg7upIVh/s320/IMG_20231123_040303632.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Here you can see why I chose to use carrots instead of canned pumpkin (aside from the unwanted surplus of carrots). The same recipe made with actual pumpkin was almost watery before baking (though it came out perfect after). After substituting in carrots, our pie filling was thick enough that it wouldn't turn the brownie batter underneath into a soggy mess.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJ7H2pQxaLB3WhT-uMTaJ_EVsyx507Er_bYWDik_3BmyCAmpLXhjiupGuXesvb5x1YanEGz8kPjokB0oY2vgdEUz8fXnyOAvrLbo8MSsIzoouXVrbVDs09r5aFsoFo7FGOcdyNqIQi2Nafn_MSb_SFbLDI4ki-MYrwzm-jUbV6M10VD0qNuetZnLr_Nnz/s4096/IMG_20231123_040411012.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJ7H2pQxaLB3WhT-uMTaJ_EVsyx507Er_bYWDik_3BmyCAmpLXhjiupGuXesvb5x1YanEGz8kPjokB0oY2vgdEUz8fXnyOAvrLbo8MSsIzoouXVrbVDs09r5aFsoFo7FGOcdyNqIQi2Nafn_MSb_SFbLDI4ki-MYrwzm-jUbV6M10VD0qNuetZnLr_Nnz/s320/IMG_20231123_040411012.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Our PSL brownies took a surprisingly long time to bake- especially given that we spread the batter far too thin before putting the pumpkin on top. After thirty minutes, the pan still sloshed when I prodded it. I guess the pie filling insulated the brownies from above. At any rate, these were in the oven for almost an hour. I was almost certain that the brownies that lay below the pumpkin would be dried out and ruined, even though they were still wet when I tested them only 5 minutes earlier.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE7DhiZzwhL1iA9VkOlkfcDdOHWaK19U3l_EVTaUny051cfgg_v_DBTdFEhTEo2wAK-hYDsh1yRXjIA32PUzaRYOIfNqyo3EF_RHzZKRpy__VmHQmPtcReAPbMGvRp5HyctAZ_hzQ97IzGRbMz0G7XZBMpFCFTREY_M1WgaWk-TE3GfdipLVMiGM8ifuWG/s4096/IMG_20231123_054654407.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE7DhiZzwhL1iA9VkOlkfcDdOHWaK19U3l_EVTaUny051cfgg_v_DBTdFEhTEo2wAK-hYDsh1yRXjIA32PUzaRYOIfNqyo3EF_RHzZKRpy__VmHQmPtcReAPbMGvRp5HyctAZ_hzQ97IzGRbMz0G7XZBMpFCFTREY_M1WgaWk-TE3GfdipLVMiGM8ifuWG/s320/IMG_20231123_054654407.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Before I let anyone try these, I took out a corner piece to make sure I wasn't serving dried-up brownies with leathery pie filling on top. (The overly long baking time unnerved me.) As I said to my mother, "If these aren't any good, this is our last chance to dump them in the trash and pretend nothing happened!"
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And... they were perfect. Given that we spread the brownie batter almost as thin as a pie crust, it rose to an astonishing height. I've never seen brownies so fluffy. I think that like the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/11/blitz-forte-or-its-as-quick-as-snap-if.html" target="_blank">Blitz Forte</a>, the stuff on top of the batter insulated it from above, giving the baking powder extra time to puff it up.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKShuyOMJGabMaLxbhhPBwugX_Fge-aU9h8Z1HcDhZHaWrVRUj4kKIjWSsRFidVwFyHJ7pi3zf2fJrrzelPRhlUyaAIK5W4lSRTEOfxHTc-Nhi93-QrxqWsYLq50SMjDXIeh5ewaPn9rWCTYgdXBM56aQvk5OZ2CKQevZgtEAyE39BPqv5mUrXhAQ6olby/s4096/IMG_20231123_181202200.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKShuyOMJGabMaLxbhhPBwugX_Fge-aU9h8Z1HcDhZHaWrVRUj4kKIjWSsRFidVwFyHJ7pi3zf2fJrrzelPRhlUyaAIK5W4lSRTEOfxHTc-Nhi93-QrxqWsYLq50SMjDXIeh5ewaPn9rWCTYgdXBM56aQvk5OZ2CKQevZgtEAyE39BPqv5mUrXhAQ6olby/s320/IMG_20231123_181202200.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The pumpkin spice latte bars are sharing a plate with the Lemon Loves (<b><i>see</i> </b>recipe <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2014/11/southern-lemony-things.html" target="_blank">here</a>). <br /></p><p>There was a bit of consternation at the table when people saw the missing corner piece (even though three remained). Then there was consternation for the sake of the consternation. But after the shouting subsided, these were so good that I was not permitted to take any of the leftovers.
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But as a quick baking note, I must suggest that you line the bottom of the pan with a sheet of paper-- even if you normally don't. This is what we found underneath:
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT8aToODWL6Yh3aFz8ei-Icn-AA0G-pgdyvWa90Hra2HhFOLFN86X0cEjMnkkKBGd2yWvGluxDfus3BwHXzKtO7P47P3cGbF0bsXuOq9kscDyPk-Znb7Gffhi8pS0W0CjVEDW7DRzyEMyOBmG3POnnsXIxrJE5k0t6HJfqGCZKNxcHAtg2g99muXC0mijp/s4096/IMG_20231115_003852542_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT8aToODWL6Yh3aFz8ei-Icn-AA0G-pgdyvWa90Hra2HhFOLFN86X0cEjMnkkKBGd2yWvGluxDfus3BwHXzKtO7P47P3cGbF0bsXuOq9kscDyPk-Znb7Gffhi8pS0W0CjVEDW7DRzyEMyOBmG3POnnsXIxrJE5k0t6HJfqGCZKNxcHAtg2g99muXC0mijp/s320/IMG_20231115_003852542_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />If you put paper in the bottom of the pan, this is no big deal. You simply cut around the sides to liberate them, and then it's easy to lift out the dessert. After all, your lovely creation can't weld itself to the bottom of the pan if it never even touches it. And if you can get dessert out of the pan, it doesn't matter what gets stuck and left behind. You can soak the pan overnight, and eat dessert instead of fretting. <p></p><p>Because I hate to end a post with a dirty pan, let's look at the delicious slice of autumn again! <br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKShuyOMJGabMaLxbhhPBwugX_Fge-aU9h8Z1HcDhZHaWrVRUj4kKIjWSsRFidVwFyHJ7pi3zf2fJrrzelPRhlUyaAIK5W4lSRTEOfxHTc-Nhi93-QrxqWsYLq50SMjDXIeh5ewaPn9rWCTYgdXBM56aQvk5OZ2CKQevZgtEAyE39BPqv5mUrXhAQ6olby/s4096/IMG_20231123_181202200.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKShuyOMJGabMaLxbhhPBwugX_Fge-aU9h8Z1HcDhZHaWrVRUj4kKIjWSsRFidVwFyHJ7pi3zf2fJrrzelPRhlUyaAIK5W4lSRTEOfxHTc-Nhi93-QrxqWsYLq50SMjDXIeh5ewaPn9rWCTYgdXBM56aQvk5OZ2CKQevZgtEAyE39BPqv5mUrXhAQ6olby/s320/IMG_20231123_181202200.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p>As Christmas encroaches, we at A Book of Cookrye would like to remind everyone that the holiday is optional. If you feel that any aspect of the festivity is too much work, ask yourself: "What will happen if I don't bother?"
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Will your ceiling cave in if without a fully decked-out tree under it? Will your nearest and dearest abandon you if you don't spend an entire week preparing an elaborate feast? (Related: will they help clean the kitchen afterward?) Will the neighbors organize a circle of shame if you fail to drag all the decorations out of the boxes and devote an entire day to arranging them?
</p><p>No one will ever thank you for being a holiday martyr. If you ever feel that no one else is putting in the work required for Christmas, simply rest your tinsel-covered hands and join everyone else on the couch. If anyone squawks that Christmas will be ruined, invite them to either join you in the chores or shut up. </p><p>Happy holidays, everyone!
</p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-1081792769227148212023-12-02T12:49:00.000-08:002023-12-02T12:49:41.897-08:00Caramel Dessert: or, The real pudding was the bowls we used along the way<p>The recipe was so disjointed that I saw it as a challenge.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkJzEwFUQbHoxW1kj7i3CohWbE4Zh52Kto83e2gtb75SdYZuP7A-ieZilRL9spHEYRygJI8_5Mog2cGsQNSIIps2uAokis8BRoV9K5QL1jyqI8D9Y5tkhcdSUhWkiaAYfTVhrrerONcv0zq-OxDSeUVv1hf5SPunwmGPheND4sRVAzqFowvhAxpzpjTy8i/s711/Caramel%20Dessert.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="CARAMEL DESSERT. Put three-fourths of a cup of brown sugar on a pie tin and melt. Scald one pint milk. Mix one tablespoon butter, melted with sugar, two tablespoons cornstarch dissolved in a little milk, one egg and a half teaspoon vanilla. After milk is scalded add rest to it and one fourth cup nut meats and serve with a dash of whipped cream on top." border="0" data-original-height="149" data-original-width="711" height="67" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkJzEwFUQbHoxW1kj7i3CohWbE4Zh52Kto83e2gtb75SdYZuP7A-ieZilRL9spHEYRygJI8_5Mog2cGsQNSIIps2uAokis8BRoV9K5QL1jyqI8D9Y5tkhcdSUhWkiaAYfTVhrrerONcv0zq-OxDSeUVv1hf5SPunwmGPheND4sRVAzqFowvhAxpzpjTy8i/w320-h67/Caramel%20Dessert.JPG" title="CARAMEL DESSERT. Put three-fourths of a cup of brown sugar on a pie tin and melt. Scald one pint milk. Mix one tablespoon butter, melted with sugar, two tablespoons cornstarch dissolved in a little milk, one egg and a half teaspoon vanilla. After milk is scalded add rest to it and one fourth cup nut meats and serve with a dash of whipped cream on top." width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>A Book of Selected Recipes,</i> Mrs. George O. Thurn, 1934
</span></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Caramel Dessert</b><br />
1 egg, beaten<br />
2 cups milk<br />
2 tbsp cornstarch<br />
¾ cup light brown sugar (or ¼ cup white sugar and ½ cup dark brown sugar)<br />
1 tbsp butter<br />
¼ cup chopped nuts<br />
½ tsp vanilla<br /><br />
Beat the egg in a large heavy bowl, set aside.<br />
Take out about 2 tablespoons of the milk, dissolve the cornstarch in it, set aside. Scald the remaining milk,* cover it with a lid (or suitable-sized dinner plate) to keep hot, and set that aside too.<br />
In a medium saucepan over medium heat, melt the brown sugar and butter together. Use a flat-ended spoon and scrape the bottom of the pot constantly. The sugar will first turn clumpy and gravelly, and then gradually become what looks like a thick sauce. <br />
Turn off heat and add the scalded milk, one spoonful at a time, stirring very hard as you go to prevent it from clumping. (Watch out for steam when you add the first few spoonfuls of milk.) Turn the heat to medium-low, and stir until all is dissolved. <br />
Slowly pour this onto the egg, whisking very hard the whole time. If you have no one to hold the bowl, you <i>really</i> want to use a heavy one. That way the weight of the bowl will keep it from tipping or wandering as you whisk everything with one hand and slowly pour steaming-hot custard with the other.<br />Return the egg mixture to the pot. Stir up the cornstarch mixture to dislodge anything that settled to the bottom. Then stir it into the pot along with the nuts. Cook over medium heat until thickened. The mixture should coat a spoon. Remove from heat and add the vanilla. <br />
Pour into your storage container of choice, and cover it with plastic wrap. Press the wrap directly onto the custard so it's in contact (this prevents a skin from forming).<br />
If desired, you can cool the custard faster by setting the container in a large bowl of iced water. Stir the pudding until it is lukewarm. (If you don't have ice, you can use cold tap water. You may need to change the water a time or two as it absorbs the heat from the pudding.) Then cover it with plastic wrap, pressing it directly onto the custard so it's in contact.<br />
Refrigerate until ready to serve.<br />
If you make this a day or two ahead, you may find that some water has separated out and is sitting on top (rather like a container of yogurt or sour cream). Just stir it back together. <br />
Serve with whipped cream on top.<br />
<br />
*While you can scald the milk on the stovetop, we recommend doing it in the microwave. It's faster, and you don't need to worry about scorching. Just put the milk in a bowl that has a fair bit of room on top in case it boils up. Then microwave it until you see it start steadily simmering around the edges. Turn off the microwave before it starts boiling all over.
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<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>A Book of Selected Recipes,</i> Mrs. George O. Thurn, 1934
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CARAMEL DESSERT. Put three-fourths of a cup of brown sugar on a pie tin and melt. Scald one pint milk. Mix one tablespoon butter, melted with sugar, two tablespoons cornstarch dissolved in a little milk, one egg and a half teaspoon vanilla. After milk is scalded add rest to it and one fourth cup nut meats and serve with a dash of whipped cream on top.-->
<p>That's right, today we are returning to our sporadically-successful attempt to make a recipe every month that I've been wanting to try for a while. This one comes from Mrs. George O. Thurn, <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/search/label/Mrs.%20George%20Thurn" target="_blank">whose recipes have made regular appearances</a> here at A Book of Cookrye. </p><p>In her (apparently only) book, Mrs. Thurn's recipes are somewhat unevenly written. Some have tidy lists of ingredients at the top and crisp, clear instructions below. Others, like today's caramel dessert, read more like a note-to-self. But while many of the recipes seem like quick notes instead of explicit directions, this is the only one in the entire handout that is so indecipherable. I had to reread it several times and then write out the steps in actual chronological order. (Maybe the recipe would have made sense upon the first reading had I attended one of her demonstrations and brought a notepad.)
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After reworking the instructions into what seemed like a logical order of steps, we could proceed. I have to admit that I was less interested in the results of the recipe than I was in making it work. I imagined that after turning the recipe's four scrambled sentences into something usable, we would get an ordinary yet lovely brown sugar custard.
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I've done a few recipes like this before. They require <i>patience.</i> You will spend an inordinately long time stirring a pot of sugar that looks resolutely unchanged.
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After a while, the sugar starts to turn into gravelly brown clumps. You may wonder if you've ruined everything as they scratch against the sides of the pot. The sugar will continue to look like this for a long time, which likely will make you wonder if it's ever going to melt like the recipe claims. But eventually, you will see the slightest hints of a sludge seeping across the bottom of the pot. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikOgL8zPaq0uJhv5hf4Q8ewX1AgAB6plfYdtCfET5xnS_ImY2Nn4sNwXH5tInkus5rFqb4huOFdkAAL-NA8MEJ8USX0KZyt4oRdSe2BfpF5NjCHsLHYC9RdB6ixAN6bzfJXMLGZQ-dxILGMbZdZtKxGtaZUMVZPMu67aSvCr97eSUEam3rWXTWEaQ4O453/s4096/IMG_20231115_231401343_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikOgL8zPaq0uJhv5hf4Q8ewX1AgAB6plfYdtCfET5xnS_ImY2Nn4sNwXH5tInkus5rFqb4huOFdkAAL-NA8MEJ8USX0KZyt4oRdSe2BfpF5NjCHsLHYC9RdB6ixAN6bzfJXMLGZQ-dxILGMbZdZtKxGtaZUMVZPMu67aSvCr97eSUEam3rWXTWEaQ4O453/s320/IMG_20231115_231401343_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a> </p><p>This first signs of melting will disappear as you keep stirring, but eventually you'll have a pot of sludge-soaked rocks.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgElJf98vEG25xWhkrkXUEs1Ns4QXCiM8LlHB6UYZzzMhrWdjewiTf7_3usomBTV6YJ-W_lc0VzUWKypBrMhUO77ceTmqWwdXiadSJyln0a9O0M2ZQ044Hznw5O5DHXFwdf-9B8vTLA20BT3cE1IN8UTrFyqNbxn2byKc7bjN3KWQaNzqTEkDVcYpIdpUEY/s4096/IMG_20231115_231749403_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgElJf98vEG25xWhkrkXUEs1Ns4QXCiM8LlHB6UYZzzMhrWdjewiTf7_3usomBTV6YJ-W_lc0VzUWKypBrMhUO77ceTmqWwdXiadSJyln0a9O0M2ZQ044Hznw5O5DHXFwdf-9B8vTLA20BT3cE1IN8UTrFyqNbxn2byKc7bjN3KWQaNzqTEkDVcYpIdpUEY/s320/IMG_20231115_231749403_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And after a <i>very</i> long time, you will have what looks like the sauce you'd pour into a pan if you were making pineapple upside-down cake. (But it's scorching hot. Keep your fingers out.)
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAazvzOd3grHIY0ZTm_3zVCN4IoF5-Wv8rWz2H9ivSMb2UrB9uGIHE-7ubypHGqgy1i7L5tI_81iGkBIt5vFGvAVb_BKbPt1SXsmV_rASvcc8f6RJhnWjWoF2x6VSUCDNozC68N8MfGgXnxsdnfvs7XdrBujMMq6mcGSDF0foRssu5NWnegzmwUqpT6IVO/s4096/IMG_20231115_231849127_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAazvzOd3grHIY0ZTm_3zVCN4IoF5-Wv8rWz2H9ivSMb2UrB9uGIHE-7ubypHGqgy1i7L5tI_81iGkBIt5vFGvAVb_BKbPt1SXsmV_rASvcc8f6RJhnWjWoF2x6VSUCDNozC68N8MfGgXnxsdnfvs7XdrBujMMq6mcGSDF0foRssu5NWnegzmwUqpT6IVO/s320/IMG_20231115_231849127_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After reducing the sugar to sludge, we reach the point in the recipe where I have ruined it so many times before: adding some form of liquid to this near-candy. If you dump it all in at once, your sugar instantly hardens into big rocky shards and you've ruined the recipe. So you have to beat the contents of the pot <i>very hard</i> while you carefully pour the first small splash in. Also, watch out for the steam!
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82ZGoHpJm9kiroS_4BJGVNRZTLEYU4v-f_uBZAMcFHA1dYIkdmty29x6P0I7EyDd6hyphenhyphen0CugacVuURZcO2c9_y8BCKafrN3J6W_E_4IsQ3WnbFUhK3rjWudJ0DqFDr9j6w-PbNHQUfN_Yovvy7GY6d2q8EuLukdTChiUGIrK-uRZw5iXQKyQCcpfG4Hc0c/s3683/IMG_20231115_231938277_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2762" data-original-width="3683" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82ZGoHpJm9kiroS_4BJGVNRZTLEYU4v-f_uBZAMcFHA1dYIkdmty29x6P0I7EyDd6hyphenhyphen0CugacVuURZcO2c9_y8BCKafrN3J6W_E_4IsQ3WnbFUhK3rjWudJ0DqFDr9j6w-PbNHQUfN_Yovvy7GY6d2q8EuLukdTChiUGIrK-uRZw5iXQKyQCcpfG4Hc0c/s320/IMG_20231115_231938277_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />It may end up looking like steaming-hot paste, but that's fine. As long as you don't have any extra-large shards of hard candy in there, it'll come out fine. Just keep beating the dessert really hard so that any hardened sugar doesn't have a chance to turn into big chunks. As Fanny Cradock would say, think of someone you've never really liked but you're too well-bred to say anything so you take it out on the dessert.<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR306HrLAwnHqXYka0QwdSvSwf4YsXa16LiNNyNm9oT3xnAAE6pRLmH0PQvHBnaLdexsD6SU01d8IXoXJqW59gKma9mNxrbljaQPGWsVwxhfaL4loDI4-WkMs5LLNCT1RRxbqTtdQO3IkIHdaBuMilfUOCcVtV26WETnuynIegob1jhuR3GJPbeG94npj1/s3653/IMG_20231115_231954792.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2740" data-original-width="3653" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR306HrLAwnHqXYka0QwdSvSwf4YsXa16LiNNyNm9oT3xnAAE6pRLmH0PQvHBnaLdexsD6SU01d8IXoXJqW59gKma9mNxrbljaQPGWsVwxhfaL4loDI4-WkMs5LLNCT1RRxbqTtdQO3IkIHdaBuMilfUOCcVtV26WETnuynIegob1jhuR3GJPbeG94npj1/s320/IMG_20231115_231954792.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Despite your best efforts, you'll probably still have small granules of hardened sugar, but they'll dissolve after a minute or two over a hot stove.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlY99gjFsZHMfZbNfA5Rj2IkmJTYn7kkU1vATlzQi-FJS9Pp3odb_uezISdut-qytSI7cnzZCFdTrrRb6QwDp8IoHG4hcd9F-RSF4IM0wuNDkj-zimHeDCuDarSxVCIreIiBXMwvLjfPRvlK4a0SboNLthvd_5Bphsyz9keW9zZ09Dwf1WLQ9lLd4XjOs/s4096/IMG_20231115_232353968_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlY99gjFsZHMfZbNfA5Rj2IkmJTYn7kkU1vATlzQi-FJS9Pp3odb_uezISdut-qytSI7cnzZCFdTrrRb6QwDp8IoHG4hcd9F-RSF4IM0wuNDkj-zimHeDCuDarSxVCIreIiBXMwvLjfPRvlK4a0SboNLthvd_5Bphsyz9keW9zZ09Dwf1WLQ9lLd4XjOs/s320/IMG_20231115_232353968_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And so, we reach the other tricky part of the recipe: tempering an egg. In other words, pouring this boiling-hot stuff into the bowl of beaten eggs without making a syrupy egg-drop soup. Once again, one must beat furiously. Use a bigger bowl than you think lest you slosh your half-made dessert all over the counter.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBU7CqAoezpq6SAKlSrcl8HI8JvoaC4v28kuwatAI5sp0dYLhDUvrCYXhucyff1lr-83qOYwfHE7Ip56UVN2pP7dNKwimSMF0jAmF2WB6UtknrF6gX6uTdW2Au7GflAs05L2FvlyFn0PgEWo3an8w8ACE0BJZUt-RirKKB1CnKWQuvsGPCL3p42sXcBLMw/s4096/IMG_20231115_232442951_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBU7CqAoezpq6SAKlSrcl8HI8JvoaC4v28kuwatAI5sp0dYLhDUvrCYXhucyff1lr-83qOYwfHE7Ip56UVN2pP7dNKwimSMF0jAmF2WB6UtknrF6gX6uTdW2Au7GflAs05L2FvlyFn0PgEWo3an8w8ACE0BJZUt-RirKKB1CnKWQuvsGPCL3p42sXcBLMw/s320/IMG_20231115_232442951_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />At this point, the recipe is a simple matter of stirring it until thickened. It occurred to me that I could probably do this part in the microwave, but I didn't want to risk turning this into a bowl of scrambled eggs in syrup.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7v49OvAy-JbvFBvKAk8VTo0nTf2Nn5DWAJSvGMT8RhRr1u5EC1qiw0k6ckYr0GngA_mm25cViIWDa3EILNxYZ4cINP00SpefboqJTYN3f0XaEgmts45p9e-pUO60GlyhvGCYbpLQ6_bNdQbJkUrsan_GhZ6uELYpTwzZv-FaCVzrFLi36mUKi5PJkUUf/s4096/IMG_20231115_232820027.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7v49OvAy-JbvFBvKAk8VTo0nTf2Nn5DWAJSvGMT8RhRr1u5EC1qiw0k6ckYr0GngA_mm25cViIWDa3EILNxYZ4cINP00SpefboqJTYN3f0XaEgmts45p9e-pUO60GlyhvGCYbpLQ6_bNdQbJkUrsan_GhZ6uELYpTwzZv-FaCVzrFLi36mUKi5PJkUUf/s320/IMG_20231115_232820027.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We put the custard away to cool, but it stayed quite sloshy and runny. However, a test spoonful tasted almost exactly like the the candy coating on Cracker Jack. I was very annoyed at having something so delicious yet so gloppy. Then I noted that I mismeasured a crucial ingredient. Instead of using 2 tablespoons of cornstarch, I added only two teaspoons of it. (For those who only speak metric, I only added one-third of the cornstarch that I should have.)
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I thought that perhaps I can add the missing amount of cornstarch, reheat the whole custard, and fix it. That didn't work. No matter how careful you are with a thermometer in one hand and a spoon in the other, an egg custard absolutely will turn into a curdled mess if you try to cook it twice. However, it was the perfect thickness. If you get your ingredients right the first time, it's a really good pudding. </p><p>Unfortunately, it looks terrible if you cook it twice and curdle the eggs. The little chunks of chopped nuts suspended in it didn't help.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL8WMpBGBXAsrBHcL2c1WWUwQFkgFg0T1jQ5pbOocg5kHTfNB9fAk3bxJnsNzy8kSzE9WlCA4JRiI0Qzi-pvEZCjPkZS3FlIs5QjXcsRegnE-qwErjWHAfo-CzbNnqpknuhZHHowVeuDOSbhnV42sjFIUuN1z7WWWFs-TTgTjwDMpTdP4Xec2FckYxCw94/s4096/IMG_20231116_182641549_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL8WMpBGBXAsrBHcL2c1WWUwQFkgFg0T1jQ5pbOocg5kHTfNB9fAk3bxJnsNzy8kSzE9WlCA4JRiI0Qzi-pvEZCjPkZS3FlIs5QjXcsRegnE-qwErjWHAfo-CzbNnqpknuhZHHowVeuDOSbhnV42sjFIUuN1z7WWWFs-TTgTjwDMpTdP4Xec2FckYxCw94/s320/IMG_20231116_182641549_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> <p></p><p>Whipped cream would have solved the unfortunate appearance, but we didn't have any. But this tasted too good to leave a bad visual impression. Instead, here is an attempted rendering of what it could have been.<br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOBNZuuXKNQ7MLQf2doMenQIhE_OVrNca4bpu7ubAQTfv1smZJH5xc8RQeWNZb_z8v9i1nD7ngIcVl8RRybha1U1nTXowY0gy6PciN-05MLvMlXh7oCiphufCloZtzbQUcHuf2gsXXukZ4cGWhBr96QssJ0x9UEqP-IyoIFZfUeLzMuUASQhLZ1L4Xhgih/s1232/Untitled-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1232" data-original-width="821" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOBNZuuXKNQ7MLQf2doMenQIhE_OVrNca4bpu7ubAQTfv1smZJH5xc8RQeWNZb_z8v9i1nD7ngIcVl8RRybha1U1nTXowY0gy6PciN-05MLvMlXh7oCiphufCloZtzbQUcHuf2gsXXukZ4cGWhBr96QssJ0x9UEqP-IyoIFZfUeLzMuUASQhLZ1L4Xhgih/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't like wine and therefore love to use to use wineglasses for everything else.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I thought the caramel dessert would be pleasantly bland, but it has a very nice burnt-sugar undertone that makes it better than it has any right to be. However, it seems like it should be on top of something, or perhaps served in little tartlet shells. <p></p><p>But as much as I liked the caramel dessert, I only recommend making it if you have a dishwasher. You'll have a lot of dirty bowls when you're done. But if you <i>do</i> have one of those wonderful machines under the kitchen counter, then I would definitely make this. After all, what effort is washing dishes when you merely put them on the rack and push the magic button?
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S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-39431379169096573232023-12-01T14:27:00.000-08:002023-12-01T14:29:48.398-08:00Whiskey-Pecan Pie: or, Unexpected normality<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazAmAWNqcuAznZhO9pFlkF9klitbvGWjiy5TmtAbKq8ISm8QCHic7Nl3XouH8eyYwq4nyGTDAVgBL3oV5_Y4XlcI7Ldbkwzs3tNpC70DhMiWzkq8qEVPU1Ng34Y7hQP4u_N5Fmudxw8VQU2v8sWBS1lqVznavuaoEodRKupLVJNfsCUHREWBhio3cgySg/s320/IMG_20231125_043306615.jpg" style="display: none;" /><p>As Thanksgiving ends, we at A Book of Cookrye go into winter hiding until the holidays are safely over. However, it was very amusing to see the retail industry frantically begging people to come out for Black Friday. After the industry stretched Black Friday into a weekend and then into half a month, people simply lost interest. </p><p>But in the precious final weekend before every grocery trip comes with 5 versions of Santa Baby over the PA system, we went to a friend's gathering and brought this!<br /></p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Whiskey-Pecan Pie</b><br />
1 unbaked pie shell<br />
1 cup sugar<br />1½ tsp cinnamon<br />1 pinch salt<br />3 eggs<br />¼ c whiskey<br />1 tsp vanilla<br />10 oz chopped pecans or pecan halves<br /><br />
Heat oven to 350°.<br />Whisk together the sugar, cinnamon, and salt, breaking up any spice-clumps. Then add the eggs all at the same time, and whisk very hard. Then beat in the whiskey and vanilla. Lastly, stir in the pecans.<br />Pour into the pie shell. If the pecans land in a pile, spread them evenly with the back of a spoon. <br />Bake 45 minutes. It's very good with whipped cream.
<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Adapted from <i>A Taste of Texas</i> by Jane Trahey, 1949</span></div>
</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>This year seems to have brought on a wonderful shift in Thanksgiving: the spread of Friendsgivings. Until the last year or so, it seemed that people tended to promote Friendsgiving as an alternative holiday when one has deliberately severed oneself from one's rotten relations. However, the idea of Friendsgiving has apparently broadened to having a Thanksgiving gathering of friends at some point within a few days of the official holiday, regardless of whether one has a good family or not.
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I think the pandemic caused the idea of Friendsgiving to expand beyond those fleeing their family. After a few years where people rarely managed to see each other, we are all collectively grabbing at the nearest excuse to feast with friends again. </p><p>And so, a lot of my friends gathered together the weekend after Thanksgiving. I took the opportunity to revisit something from the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/03/the-saint-patcaken-or-acts-of-ambitious.html" target="_blank">Saint Patcaken</a>: a Fireball pecan pie. It's not like I could bring such a pie to my family.
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After we cut away the extra pie crust that hung over the edges of the pan, the rerolled trimmings were exactly enough to fill this miniature pie pan. I don't know what I will do with it, but it's reassuring to know that the freezer holds a single-serving pie shell for when the need strikes.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6OTQEKjjfUpqxZsGj1XbFgGXL-3UnMcJh6Njhl_aGx1Iz1tZ-GWF6DXv3gs5iOvIbdTvgwlTAFg42Ilz28tEwaxcKWqVIcvMQWNFjxawS9WeX_-sF6sTzL5vyRreRpcA4TWTFfMnHcSLzW22MWu6KHl5yY_DKx9JxwbPtYAGwMzQwOXNrXSWwJLpxn7s/s2048/1701070548167.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6OTQEKjjfUpqxZsGj1XbFgGXL-3UnMcJh6Njhl_aGx1Iz1tZ-GWF6DXv3gs5iOvIbdTvgwlTAFg42Ilz28tEwaxcKWqVIcvMQWNFjxawS9WeX_-sF6sTzL5vyRreRpcA4TWTFfMnHcSLzW22MWu6KHl5yY_DKx9JxwbPtYAGwMzQwOXNrXSWwJLpxn7s/s320/1701070548167.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div><br />The baking aisle hasn't recovered from everyone frantically trying to figure out how to cook from scratch. Relevant to today's pie, the pecan pieces were sold out. But in a peculiar turn of events, the pecan halves were cheaper than the pieces would have been. Usually it's the other way around, probably because it's mechanically trickier to get pecans out of their shells intact.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCyNb0wmUiEa2WBLJHRR96Wk6i6W6DQHZuI-H8yg8Sw3bVVMUJ4ZXtVeR0ccroDHHGECB2T5ZNKjxtThP5U1ssmfTH-qrcqOyCdMeFizMZHKntHh8H31u_Sovm1DDk6VjVLXQq1HVEoTklPGgONlHAV6v7Z3bHkn2bHYq2fOTYX8LmnbyLWsv2WuQ5hta/s4096/IMG_20231125_043033934.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCyNb0wmUiEa2WBLJHRR96Wk6i6W6DQHZuI-H8yg8Sw3bVVMUJ4ZXtVeR0ccroDHHGECB2T5ZNKjxtThP5U1ssmfTH-qrcqOyCdMeFizMZHKntHh8H31u_Sovm1DDk6VjVLXQq1HVEoTklPGgONlHAV6v7Z3bHkn2bHYq2fOTYX8LmnbyLWsv2WuQ5hta/s320/IMG_20231125_043033934.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As I hoped, the pie tasted like Fireball and pecans. The combination is better than you may think, and I don't even like whiskey. I was so happy to take this pie out from under a massive tower of cake and let it be its unfettered self.<br /><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazAmAWNqcuAznZhO9pFlkF9klitbvGWjiy5TmtAbKq8ISm8QCHic7Nl3XouH8eyYwq4nyGTDAVgBL3oV5_Y4XlcI7Ldbkwzs3tNpC70DhMiWzkq8qEVPU1Ng34Y7hQP4u_N5Fmudxw8VQU2v8sWBS1lqVznavuaoEodRKupLVJNfsCUHREWBhio3cgySg/s4096/IMG_20231125_043306615.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazAmAWNqcuAznZhO9pFlkF9klitbvGWjiy5TmtAbKq8ISm8QCHic7Nl3XouH8eyYwq4nyGTDAVgBL3oV5_Y4XlcI7Ldbkwzs3tNpC70DhMiWzkq8qEVPU1Ng34Y7hQP4u_N5Fmudxw8VQU2v8sWBS1lqVznavuaoEodRKupLVJNfsCUHREWBhio3cgySg/s320/IMG_20231125_043306615.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As the pie baked, it formed a very nice, crisp-looking, crackly crust. I couldn't decide whether the pecans looked like an enticing promise of what lay within, or whether they looked like a pie full of beetles. Both options appealed to me.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil9uki5vscbW8u_IE0Tzm11fv-Ql2zJVOmZbY_a8tQ5XaXMhcEJzxHHsHWYe_wca76eqpos8qurAFRls_PIjGe5-mdkIU3IW0ZDnevY1_3_iT52ov-HJromyF6XUqxkleBu0zHJKz6_oueZEjKue2uAtpfH0ZsmzXRFFYtqt0ajfR_YnNl-N2MxJwMUlyM/s3404/IMG_20231125_052629425.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2553" data-original-width="3404" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil9uki5vscbW8u_IE0Tzm11fv-Ql2zJVOmZbY_a8tQ5XaXMhcEJzxHHsHWYe_wca76eqpos8qurAFRls_PIjGe5-mdkIU3IW0ZDnevY1_3_iT52ov-HJromyF6XUqxkleBu0zHJKz6_oueZEjKue2uAtpfH0ZsmzXRFFYtqt0ajfR_YnNl-N2MxJwMUlyM/s320/IMG_20231125_052629425.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Despite our previous lessons in properly resting a pie crust made in a food processor (lest the gluten in it cause the whole crust to tighten like a trampoline as it bakes), I only gave this crust about half an hour in the refrigerator after rolling it out. That proved insufficient, and half of the pie pulled away from the pan. But the crust was sturdy as it was springy. Note how it didn't crack or leak at all.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihPym9_eV-6QMDqwEHvtFSMsxov6WwcS6k9E1paCHtdDMIt12ioK_gl-ifdHupoXq-rrO-mpGRzk5nYUSnc26euY_KvJSS8x0c9-rMu4UY-PpaNhJe__jTEr_SMfoWnShT_bykVh_0hkBmRkFAc6ykZJyeysm5PSlr7gG8BW9Qh1sdkwarnAoume9fA0fo/s4096/IMG_20231125_052737231.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihPym9_eV-6QMDqwEHvtFSMsxov6WwcS6k9E1paCHtdDMIt12ioK_gl-ifdHupoXq-rrO-mpGRzk5nYUSnc26euY_KvJSS8x0c9-rMu4UY-PpaNhJe__jTEr_SMfoWnShT_bykVh_0hkBmRkFAc6ykZJyeysm5PSlr7gG8BW9Qh1sdkwarnAoume9fA0fo/s320/IMG_20231125_052737231.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As many of us know, you must remove a piece of a pie when setting it on a dessert table. People often hesitate to be the first to plunge a knife into an intact dessert. But once it's already been cut, no one minds helping themselves. This was as good an opportunity as any to taste-test the pie and see whether I was about to discreetly take it back to the car.
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I said "Hmm. It tastes more normal than I thought it would." I then found out that people get nervous when one says that about one's own pies.
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I don't know that I would have tasted the whiskey had I not already known it was there. It was a very lovely pecan pie, but it wasn't what I set out to make. With that said, a large chunk of it was gone by the time I left.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsVf5rhIHmhC3Bgr0jzoZjw_96xhQi0nH1g_P6G-forNWXMDhuhC2bbuTRo7VmWHeCMGNj-Qd5cGmymDNdDBPoHLuhQ_dvhZoWltX2dXwEzqDZCtz3NhLQMGvnKG-pxtVXfi-CsNPCiO9T68VrTom-FGzcbivQ2Wq9e7wVhOJm5ukSMMO7jDpIeGV5OuM/s4096/IMG_20231125_215514343.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsVf5rhIHmhC3Bgr0jzoZjw_96xhQi0nH1g_P6G-forNWXMDhuhC2bbuTRo7VmWHeCMGNj-Qd5cGmymDNdDBPoHLuhQ_dvhZoWltX2dXwEzqDZCtz3NhLQMGvnKG-pxtVXfi-CsNPCiO9T68VrTom-FGzcbivQ2Wq9e7wVhOJm5ukSMMO7jDpIeGV5OuM/s320/IMG_20231125_215514343.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />I only have one minor postscript to add. For my family's Thanksgiving, <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/11/happy-thanksgiving-this-year-we-at-book.html" target="_blank">I took Gabby's advice</a> that "Lemon bars are always good." Well, it seems lemon is always the most popular thing on any Thanksgiving dessert table. One person brought a lemon meringue pie that was completely demolished. You can see its nearly-empty pan above and slightly to the left of mine. (Another person brought two apple pies that were still warm from their oven, which is a level of last-minute haste I may someday rise to.) </p><p>Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!<br /></p><p></p>
<!--<p>
As Christmas encroaches, we at A Book of Cookrye would like to give everyone a helpful reminder that the holiday is optional. If you feel that any aspect of the festivity is too much work, ask yourself: "What will happen if I just skip it?" Will your ceiling cave in if you forget to put a fully decked-out tree under it? Will your nearest and dearest abandon you if you don't spend an entire week preparing an elaborate feast? (Will they help clean up the kitchen afterward?) Will the neighbors organize a circle of shame if you fail to drag all the decorations out of the boxes and devote an entire day to arranging them?
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We will also offer a suggestion for people: no one will ever thank you for being a holiday martyr. If you ever feel that no one else is putting in the work required for Christmas, simply rest your tinsel-covered hands and join everyone else on the couch. If anyone squawks that Christmas will be ruined, invite them to either join you in the chores or shut up. Happy holidays, everyone!
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S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-47542256259532988762023-11-23T04:09:00.000-08:002023-12-04T14:40:48.095-08:00Happy Thanksgiving from A Book of Cookrye!<p>Happy Thanksgiving! This year, we at A Book of Cookrye are thankful for libraries.
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In our little household island of introvertedness, the holiday season almost ceases to exist. Last week, I stopped at a gas station and wondered why they had Christmas muzak in mid-October. While Mom and I had talked a tiny bit about Thanksgiving plans, I thought the holiday was still a month away until last Tuesday. In other words, I had only two days to figure out what I was making for Thanksgiving.
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Our Mom of Cookrye asked us to bring desserts. I wasn't sure what to make this this year (one tires of making the same things every year). So I reached out to friends for advice. Gabby (<a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2017/07/pieathlon-fourth-apple-cheese-pie.html">who has</a> fearlessly <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2018/08/the-pieathlon-strikes-again.html" target="_blank">shown up</a> for <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2019/08/the-pieathlon-returns.html" target="_blank">three Pieathlons</a>) solved my indecision immediately.
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAuf0neWJSbemXPyPVcYNx7oYRdMpA6lEzPpt5qwrodiuqXSL8jFTpw7KrXSr7CtOGtVluHf4XM2DuT7PDUhnKPaTJVl7fKZmUxH_K9elyDI3MpGyY927ydORb6BL7TGpJL6PnN-TROKHmcQd5lTxm4tV1PCipMdbd3I_49NgU0gAI7QgCygkV1p-TEGX/s297/lemon%20for%20tday.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="297" data-original-width="267" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAuf0neWJSbemXPyPVcYNx7oYRdMpA6lEzPpt5qwrodiuqXSL8jFTpw7KrXSr7CtOGtVluHf4XM2DuT7PDUhnKPaTJVl7fKZmUxH_K9elyDI3MpGyY927ydORb6BL7TGpJL6PnN-TROKHmcQd5lTxm4tV1PCipMdbd3I_49NgU0gAI7QgCygkV1p-TEGX/s1600/lemon%20for%20tday.PNG" width="267" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>
I knew just the recipe to use: the Lemon Loves from <i>The Cotton Country Collection</i>. I only remembered them because of the charming name. (Also it's hard to go wrong with recipes from a southern Louisiana community cookbook.) Unfortunately, the book's spiral binding failed, and it was summarily discarded. I should have saved out the pages with recipes I use. Then I thought to myself "I'm sure I wrote about it..." <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2014/11/southern-lemony-things.html" target="_blank">And it turns out I did</a>!
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But as I was rereading the ingredients, I thought to myself "That baking powder measurement seems.... off." The recipe, as I typed it up, called for half a tablespoon of baking powder in a tiny little layer of lemon filling. I also added in a footnote that I forgot to add the baking powder and the lemon bars came out fine anyway. However, I wondered: If one measurement is (probably) off, did I type anything else wrong in the recipe?
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Unfortunately, I could not check the book since (as aforementioned) it fell apart and was then sent to the municipal hereafter. Nor did the local library have a copy. And so, I looked up the book on <a href="https://search.worldcat.org/" target="_blank">WorldCat</a> and called the first library listed that had a copy. The librarian who answered very kindly went to the shelves, pulled down their copy of <i>The Cotton Country Collection</i>, and read the recipe for Lemon Loves over the phone. She was very professional and mercifully didn't ask "Is this a prank call?" Truly, we do not deserve librarians.
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I said "Thank you! It seems like Thanksgiving snuck up on me this year!"
</p><p>
"It does that every year," she replied.<br /></p><p>
Most of the recipe that she read by telephone was identical to what I posted. But turns out I made a tiny yet crucial error back when I typed it up: </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgtmBMoJlAhL00XF4JFzMsCSkCTkh_w_TPbUP0pZ2bLsqzBOHHsS5QIYe1FjnMVSLdj5zakuP7FrqCmXIsR7tGtybn1eusfm42tDITQnJOsbzKzStEo2NvI5hIqOdAKtNMLsz1oR5Q7WxlJR9dj7msgToaOHBmZLltdiPNC5E9x_X1qsBgHEuHzQMcSN3/s962/corrected%20lemon%20loves.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="585" data-original-width="962" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgtmBMoJlAhL00XF4JFzMsCSkCTkh_w_TPbUP0pZ2bLsqzBOHHsS5QIYe1FjnMVSLdj5zakuP7FrqCmXIsR7tGtybn1eusfm42tDITQnJOsbzKzStEo2NvI5hIqOdAKtNMLsz1oR5Q7WxlJR9dj7msgToaOHBmZLltdiPNC5E9x_X1qsBgHEuHzQMcSN3/s320/corrected%20lemon%20loves.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One stray letter B can ruin a recipe.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I cannot believe I've had a booby-trap recipe lurking on A Book of Cookrye for nine years! What if someone made them as written, adding half a tablespoon of baking powder instead of half a teaspoon, and ended up with weird, chemical-tasting Lemon Loves? A half-tablespoon is three times as much as a half-teaspoon! I often say that I follow recipe directions so I can blame the writer, and this time I must blame myself!
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxy5OdiAFHO0IcA5ogJmMbXNKkwRvkV1Z-2KrY1x0WoGCMDLaPxJc9bqlHKxqNHaoh08UhzQxwe7wDEkRdK-AxMyiZS7fjKMVVaNoB6NYLOUhX2XKruGLXyizTa-GPwCjxZ1_T9UCnV8cqQMslQpXVSyNzCB-rvwjGmpPg1YF8f6WZnau1hjM0bg5UXjq/s2048/1700740276639.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxy5OdiAFHO0IcA5ogJmMbXNKkwRvkV1Z-2KrY1x0WoGCMDLaPxJc9bqlHKxqNHaoh08UhzQxwe7wDEkRdK-AxMyiZS7fjKMVVaNoB6NYLOUhX2XKruGLXyizTa-GPwCjxZ1_T9UCnV8cqQMslQpXVSyNzCB-rvwjGmpPg1YF8f6WZnau1hjM0bg5UXjq/s320/1700740276639.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Now that we have corrected the original recipe, if you want to make the Lemon Loves you can be assured that the recipe was double-checked and will come out just right.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFT9vkXe-bhMDoBojQFDaVO45vScEYUpBLpS-eFqEhv0-8RMJjOHPyXrb7dAQjECQKn4hv1pht9kikOa8NhER3XTTzqc7mOQORxSmrAk7FwgAq29NBTFj2sxEPvULAAb_mYBt51iwMSRmNTP544K10FZeiKf1BtTzapl0gJoY2hQClh7PC0AvxTfYkdQVk/s2048/1700740262770.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFT9vkXe-bhMDoBojQFDaVO45vScEYUpBLpS-eFqEhv0-8RMJjOHPyXrb7dAQjECQKn4hv1pht9kikOa8NhER3XTTzqc7mOQORxSmrAk7FwgAq29NBTFj2sxEPvULAAb_mYBt51iwMSRmNTP544K10FZeiKf1BtTzapl0gJoY2hQClh7PC0AvxTfYkdQVk/s320/1700740262770.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>And so, this Thanksgiving, I'm sure my entire family will be thankful to
the librarian who answered the phone, whether they know it or not.</p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-42492399534178977862023-11-21T20:50:00.000-08:002023-11-22T05:40:34.495-08:00Pumpkin-Spice Bars: The secret ingredient is carrots<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21-QlqgMuAkyG-ZnM5RunIZnC6DgW61ntqeWYPvG4fzwMVldclSmzutqiTR4rDXvuF429NjiCw0MNHNDt5Mpo6EU0NyZFEZcf-S2eq5HxWN-lJRpmbI7AfC15h6rqHb2i8fUK4ab0pn1nvZ-ufa6O-wf_paMeNj2ri_aL-rn-98Ugiy7aBu-E_tBBQm8n/s4096/IMG_20231103_013248206.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>When carrots multiply in the refrigerator, it's time for pie!<br /></p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>"Pumpkin" Spice Bars</b> <i>(made with carrots)</i><br />
<br />Before beginning, cut the carrots for the filling into 2 or 3 inch pieces (no need to be precise). Place in a microwave-safe bowl with about 2 tbsp water. Cover the bowl with a plate. Microwave until tender, and set aside to cool.<br /><br />
Heat oven to 350°. Line an 8" round pan with foil, then coat with cooking spray.<br />
<br /><i>Crust:</i>
<ul>
<li>¼ cup butter or stick-type margarine</li>
<li>¼ cup brown sugar</li>
<li>¼ cup oats</li>
<li>½ cup flour</li>
</ul>
Thoroughly mix the sugar and margarine (add a pinch of salt if using unsalted butter). Add oats and flour, mix well. Sprinkle evenly into the pan, then pat and press firmly into a flat crust.<br />
Bake 15 minutes. Make the filling and topping while it bakes.<br /><br />
<i>Filling:</i>
<ul>
<li>8 oz cooked and cooled carrots (weigh after cooking)</li>
<li>¾ cup (half of a 12-ounce can) evaporated milk*</li>
<li>2 eggs</li>
<li>¾ cup sugar</li>
<li>½ tsp salt</li>
<li>1 tsp cinnamon</li>
<li>¼ tsp cloves</li>
<li>¼ tsp ginger</li>
</ul>
Place the carrots, evaporated milk, and eggs in a blender. Blenderize thoroughly. (If the carrots are still hot, blenderize them with the milk first, then add the eggs and blenderize them some more.)
Pour them into a bowl and add the remaining ingredients. Mix well. (If your blender is large enough, you can simply add the sugar and spices and then blenderize everything together.)<br />
Pour onto the crust, and spread it evenly into the pan.<br />
Sprinkle with topping and bake 15 minutes, or until set. Like a cheesecake, it's done when it jiggled but doesn't slosh.<br /><br />
<i>Topping:</i>
<ul>
<li>2 tbsp stick-type margarine</li>
<li>½ cup brown sugar</li>
<li>½ cup nuts (we recommend pecans)<br /></li>
</ul>
Mix the margarine into the brown sugar. Then add the nuts.<br /><br />
*If you don't know what you'd do with the remaining half-can of evaporated milk and don't want to freeze it, use a 5-ounce can and add 2 tbsp of regular milk.
<br /><br />
<i>Note:</i> When you first pour the filling into the pan, it should be thick enough that the topping sits on it rather than sinking in. If not, bake the filling for about 15 minutes. Then sprinkle on the topping and bake 10-20 minutes, or until set.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Adapted from a handwritten recipe card
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikK7EkfH-l1eD0eRrgPn9Rj4i0nWuaxOLljtz3afWcSHwWuvxlTc1CjXQEawOhtkQaQTIVcDIFTG73wvmm7w51DbLYWQookx244EvDv-KqrmBEocS8LLASon7rHo4tPAeS_6xPlA3IzgdaXNrJeUdUl8uS2cj650TmtiONk4zCerZ8WzJHelPxw6h0gNII/s3579/Image%20(5).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3579" data-original-width="3023" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikK7EkfH-l1eD0eRrgPn9Rj4i0nWuaxOLljtz3afWcSHwWuvxlTc1CjXQEawOhtkQaQTIVcDIFTG73wvmm7w51DbLYWQookx244EvDv-KqrmBEocS8LLASon7rHo4tPAeS_6xPlA3IzgdaXNrJeUdUl8uS2cj650TmtiONk4zCerZ8WzJHelPxw6h0gNII/s320/Image%20(5).jpg" width="270" /></a></div><br />Today on A Book of Cookrye, we are bringing out a charming recipe card I've been wanting to make for a long time! It looks like a nice recipe for pumpkin cookies, doesn't it? While I could have used the ingredients listed, we have carrots breeding in the refrigerator. And so, instead of pumpkin, we're using these!
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiTHC4atrHozfvDm_vdVnMWp8zIbh29KttUCRKNBiMzGVW-LQfjX-KiG7VrkrEolMSAAWz5v8i8E0Cs5cVXjqKU_YD-wpM0dvk3T-FgbgpAA9dE2pDpghwlmm7G-yWVFxPd9wqaa-n5nwa8UhCYClO7PJCMJ0sLASiaSo1TbO6ajse3SjglFIdgw_sUnd/s4096/IMG_20231102_231236688.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="4096" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiTHC4atrHozfvDm_vdVnMWp8zIbh29KttUCRKNBiMzGVW-LQfjX-KiG7VrkrEolMSAAWz5v8i8E0Cs5cVXjqKU_YD-wpM0dvk3T-FgbgpAA9dE2pDpghwlmm7G-yWVFxPd9wqaa-n5nwa8UhCYClO7PJCMJ0sLASiaSo1TbO6ajse3SjglFIdgw_sUnd/s320/IMG_20231102_231236688.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />In the comments under <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/11/pumpkin-pie-made-with-carrots-or-autumn.html" target="_blank">our recent carrot tarts</a>, Freezy noted that apparently carrot pies are a bit of a trend at the moment. Apparently people are flipping through vintage cookbooks and discovering the tasty recipes that lie between the gaudy gelatin horrors, and carrot pies have been brought back from between the pages.
<p></p>
<p>
I'm not at all surprised at the rediscovery of carrot pies. For quite some time, making terrible-looking recipes from old cookbooks has been a popular video genre on social media. It was only inevitable that a few "content creators" would read the rest of the book and find the good recipes. Since swapping pumpkin for carrots has been a popular "cooking hack" since the days when they were called "household hints" (and even before then), you see it suggested in a <i>lot</i> of cookbooks. And of course, in the days before you could simply buy a can of pumpkin, you had to butcher an actual fresh pumpkin and stew it yourself. Doesn't dropping whole carrots into a pot of water sound wonderfully easier?
</p>
<p>
Speaking of easier, we decided to microwave the carrots instead of simmering them. Not only is the microwave a lot faster, but I think it tastes better. You don't lose half the flavor when you drain off the cooking water. </p><p>While the carrots were merrily spinning on the microwave's glass platter, we could begin the crust. Like so many cookie recipes, it starts with a delicious and sticky mixture of butter and sugar.
</p>
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUx7gpld-MyQmLS-70ivfmalXfRBjonMr22ZDBzB7qmRqXlu_08npih0Eod810z15Kw7RHK9RWprJucRieRi2K_i3cLMVx_TEhW9vgqWVLxm2yUtTnCcTnhiLm-QNTtsIbsq7TztHhI0Q9hS9jX999Z3hyxVg3SUdP4IFJ903IsROr_Nky6YOhotk6OUSf/s3226/IMG_20231102_233054468.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2580" data-original-width="3226" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUx7gpld-MyQmLS-70ivfmalXfRBjonMr22ZDBzB7qmRqXlu_08npih0Eod810z15Kw7RHK9RWprJucRieRi2K_i3cLMVx_TEhW9vgqWVLxm2yUtTnCcTnhiLm-QNTtsIbsq7TztHhI0Q9hS9jX999Z3hyxVg3SUdP4IFJ903IsROr_Nky6YOhotk6OUSf/s320/IMG_20231102_233054468.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I thought that perhaps I should mix in the flour first and then separately add the oats (as is customary when making cookies), but then I figured that I could probably just dump everything in with no ill results. I was right.
<p></p>
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-22Q0FcF4j1Nxm4RfxzpLMNfkC_BgKwb5Y0bh3D6OB8UNsimDfF29eO8FuPCvPPBb6J8pusKR5q46HJG3iNWk7qwQXGLTYluLSBBW-OLhevxo6wyVcXCg8ywZhgXkOSRz3QDDlwSle8cv5a-as2KW9etgeqhB-8h1SG0-xsrr7_UPfzz7fiUsHSuHvXm/s4096/IMG_20231102_233253909.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-22Q0FcF4j1Nxm4RfxzpLMNfkC_BgKwb5Y0bh3D6OB8UNsimDfF29eO8FuPCvPPBb6J8pusKR5q46HJG3iNWk7qwQXGLTYluLSBBW-OLhevxo6wyVcXCg8ywZhgXkOSRz3QDDlwSle8cv5a-as2KW9etgeqhB-8h1SG0-xsrr7_UPfzz7fiUsHSuHvXm/s320/IMG_20231102_233253909.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Our resulting dough tasted, unsurprisingly, like oatmeal cookies. They were perhaps a tiny bit bland, but I wasn't worried about that. After all, this is the foundation on which our pumpkin-spice filling will rest. Too many flavors could start clashing in the completed cookies. After all, how many of us season our pie dough before putting a pie in it?
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCqWDlgFnO0KrvbCQJslvhBErijFA6tWgEndmivZicSxglDt7_70QWHH4DlXwzGbH4IqGlqP4B4zRvanJv0btomquIZ-EMibMd1aXy2xSrtaa4Kr4T2vo-QhkkhVLSwbCo6grVaYos0XiQXcKoBNp2eIuAZxCDXL0zGRJYpT9rF0q4DxgpHb_71qnS0Zh/s4096/IMG_20231102_233446141.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCqWDlgFnO0KrvbCQJslvhBErijFA6tWgEndmivZicSxglDt7_70QWHH4DlXwzGbH4IqGlqP4B4zRvanJv0btomquIZ-EMibMd1aXy2xSrtaa4Kr4T2vo-QhkkhVLSwbCo6grVaYos0XiQXcKoBNp2eIuAZxCDXL0zGRJYpT9rF0q4DxgpHb_71qnS0Zh/s320/IMG_20231102_233446141.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Like the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/08/sour-cream-pecan-coffee-cake-or.html" target="_blank">sour cream pecan coffee cake</a>, this recipe looks a lot longer than it is. The instructions take up both sides of the index card, but we were already putting the crust into the oven before we knew it. I thought our carrots would have time to cool before we got around to using them, but they had barely finished their time in the microwave.<p></p>
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpjZV_s5FkLo-NxE8zpMfEGX9cfdsVGfX4Ic8eeuggE4fOnU1bwbyFMrS4HgrAXv64jZz34APvRQENmCXiJ6hVmGnTpm0QC1sKMKCr_vECMWQBdNg4vsUKDPa8hFnuwDOv0ds2do7wCAz-pJ0_Cywp6X1vYTWWRgrs2Phgxb8dcTRx8wxcB0oXtgcet7zn/s4096/IMG_20231102_233605230.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpjZV_s5FkLo-NxE8zpMfEGX9cfdsVGfX4Ic8eeuggE4fOnU1bwbyFMrS4HgrAXv64jZz34APvRQENmCXiJ6hVmGnTpm0QC1sKMKCr_vECMWQBdNg4vsUKDPa8hFnuwDOv0ds2do7wCAz-pJ0_Cywp6X1vYTWWRgrs2Phgxb8dcTRx8wxcB0oXtgcet7zn/s320/IMG_20231102_233605230.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Pumpkin pies have superseded carrot cakes as my preferred method of getting the damn things out of the refrigerator. A carrot cake uses one or two carrots in a whole dessert. But with a pie, you will pulverize at least half a dozen of them into your recipe. Until I can put a stop to the carrots that apparently breed like rabbits, we will have a lot of I-can't-believe-it's-not-pumpkin pies.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLL-xz1eMYwTBhgTDZF1d1MTuCCjpO4oXyRumn0dMRDtqIU4k9_GYJ9W8vBfcHMknUB-hA2DLqeMVJC7dB0UDhFFoSKtduyh11bvt2bVPPMwfO3t_709BYQeGe241FASEczu2WtPxW6ZhSy0YxZvGsSB42_sdLCTTvRreC7eph7DdlI7kvhI3C8LeYGNS/s3916/IMG_20231102_234319777.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3916" data-original-width="2937" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLL-xz1eMYwTBhgTDZF1d1MTuCCjpO4oXyRumn0dMRDtqIU4k9_GYJ9W8vBfcHMknUB-hA2DLqeMVJC7dB0UDhFFoSKtduyh11bvt2bVPPMwfO3t_709BYQeGe241FASEczu2WtPxW6ZhSy0YxZvGsSB42_sdLCTTvRreC7eph7DdlI7kvhI3C8LeYGNS/s320/IMG_20231102_234319777.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p>
<p>
I was going to put the milk, eggs, and carrots into the blender all at once. But since the carrots were still hot, I instead blenderized them with just the milk first. The resulting carrot paste was too thick to properly liquefy, but the milk cooled the carrots down enough to avoid prematurely cooking the eggs.
</p>
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-bZtfXq74GstnqYkhsUtFGvZ1ZE1Lfp7RyoAhjoiw2Zf2ZKCZxR150r9L30QJ6mdEDBiefYNZ0tsZa5mVwMJztLYyVSuJpj97L5WZzsIoyxEN9SreA-jhVo43gH2VUFDrp9rQQxnVhT2yTKKlVVLr5DczkNgG3iF_CHFIyvNqE-3LmibuWNDZ3HZwtjS/s4096/IMG_20231102_234502231.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-bZtfXq74GstnqYkhsUtFGvZ1ZE1Lfp7RyoAhjoiw2Zf2ZKCZxR150r9L30QJ6mdEDBiefYNZ0tsZa5mVwMJztLYyVSuJpj97L5WZzsIoyxEN9SreA-jhVo43gH2VUFDrp9rQQxnVhT2yTKKlVVLr5DczkNgG3iF_CHFIyvNqE-3LmibuWNDZ3HZwtjS/s320/IMG_20231102_234502231.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Our resulting spiced mixture was a lovely bright orange and tasted understated yet nice. Like our previous batch of carrot tarts, the pie filling was a lot thicker than the pumpkin pie made with actual pumpkin. As you can see, the sugar and spices sat on top of it instead of sinking in.
<p></p>
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBc7xLqun5yVtuSZYY7E4A3PSpnOZkRr9YCmA7Z6VJ_lSppbDQ6qzncays3ALPokC_2TB-_JchgauYrhreZFj3J3HDwUvZLUJ6ggXfiKL8oJjyF4u6gkr_8Ts_mMnkcK3yP2LCWG2j-t6rQ66dLwsCCaEsZdAq8kSAbO8JZwE-SO4shN0rb68Qh7vhwhmh/s4096/IMG_20231102_235257494.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBc7xLqun5yVtuSZYY7E4A3PSpnOZkRr9YCmA7Z6VJ_lSppbDQ6qzncays3ALPokC_2TB-_JchgauYrhreZFj3J3HDwUvZLUJ6ggXfiKL8oJjyF4u6gkr_8Ts_mMnkcK3yP2LCWG2j-t6rQ66dLwsCCaEsZdAq8kSAbO8JZwE-SO4shN0rb68Qh7vhwhmh/s320/IMG_20231102_235257494.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Not only does this recipe go by a lot quicker than the long instructions suggest, when you use carrots instead of pumpkin it also <i>bakes</i> very fast. The recipe says to bake for fifteen minutes and then sprinkle on the topping. I found that at the end of those fifteen minutes, the "pumpkin"-spice bars were already completely set. I sprinkled the nuts on top and returned the pan to the oven for the butter and sugar to melt into place. While I was concerned that the eggs would curdle, I told myself that in the original instructions, our pumpkin bars would have spent over twice as long in the oven with no ill effect.
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<p></p>
<p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRLVz4CR5Ld0zjfCgrGxM9KRNDGMZ07mF5FdR7uBt_ZSnBC6IHJVkwgKyd4gUnqnCS6yj7fsn39PYNdGmpTLxOJleg0cFnup5rW1elRa132KXLrmAWDujNCvyn004Jd8-uSZK4YOsO4BeDnfuILMxVMGgDYEapHC9rBavGVxwpiz1v1scD2F4kuHPAALp/s4096/IMG_20231103_001850305.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRLVz4CR5Ld0zjfCgrGxM9KRNDGMZ07mF5FdR7uBt_ZSnBC6IHJVkwgKyd4gUnqnCS6yj7fsn39PYNdGmpTLxOJleg0cFnup5rW1elRa132KXLrmAWDujNCvyn004Jd8-uSZK4YOsO4BeDnfuILMxVMGgDYEapHC9rBavGVxwpiz1v1scD2F4kuHPAALp/s320/IMG_20231103_001850305.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />So... this recipe doesn't make bar cookies, even though that's what's written at the top of the card. It makes a pumpkin pie with an oatmeal shortbread crust. If you doubled the recipe back to its original quantity and made it in a 9x13 pan, you still wouldn't get pumpkin-spice bars. You would get a rectangular pumpkin pie.
<p></p>
<p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0LtbjuqSZOehd1Z48tPkTEvVe_0Xi1ZiXLYTNT-_J_64HMlvLQ6JrNTKKTUDh3n2Bma_eVPMLmHR8Rq9QhBVYePL7WkePzKp66ACAgISbkej4hJPwNfQB-7tHzZ2yd3HazHTWWL3_CD-zryAvSdlLIytC7_jkyWIXBFEEkoaA40J81tZeFq-HOEYhfba/s4096/IMG_20231103_003100674.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0LtbjuqSZOehd1Z48tPkTEvVe_0Xi1ZiXLYTNT-_J_64HMlvLQ6JrNTKKTUDh3n2Bma_eVPMLmHR8Rq9QhBVYePL7WkePzKp66ACAgISbkej4hJPwNfQB-7tHzZ2yd3HazHTWWL3_CD-zryAvSdlLIytC7_jkyWIXBFEEkoaA40J81tZeFq-HOEYhfba/s320/IMG_20231103_003100674.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But with that said, it's really good. The oatmeal crust wasn't as sweet as cookies, and therefore it was a perfect counterpoint to the pie filling. The toasted pecans on top (I refuse to voluntarily eat walnuts) were really good. The pie filling itself, while perfectly fine, wasn't quite as good as the pumpkin pie recipe I clipped out of the newspaper (well, screen-grabbed from the newspaper. It was a bit bland. I would swap out the filling with <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/12/pumpkin-tarts-or-its-always-pumpkin.html" target="_blank">Louise Bennett Weaver's recipe from the 1933 newspaper</a>.
Simply cut the pie filling down by a third (that is, reduce the eggs
from three to two, and adjust the other ingredient amounts to match).<p></p>
<p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21-QlqgMuAkyG-ZnM5RunIZnC6DgW61ntqeWYPvG4fzwMVldclSmzutqiTR4rDXvuF429NjiCw0MNHNDt5Mpo6EU0NyZFEZcf-S2eq5HxWN-lJRpmbI7AfC15h6rqHb2i8fUK4ab0pn1nvZ-ufa6O-wf_paMeNj2ri_aL-rn-98Ugiy7aBu-E_tBBQm8n/s4096/IMG_20231103_013248206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="4096" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21-QlqgMuAkyG-ZnM5RunIZnC6DgW61ntqeWYPvG4fzwMVldclSmzutqiTR4rDXvuF429NjiCw0MNHNDt5Mpo6EU0NyZFEZcf-S2eq5HxWN-lJRpmbI7AfC15h6rqHb2i8fUK4ab0pn1nvZ-ufa6O-wf_paMeNj2ri_aL-rn-98Ugiy7aBu-E_tBBQm8n/s320/IMG_20231103_013248206.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I really like the idea of this recipe a lot. It's delicious, and really easy. If you can't roll out a pie crust (or don't want to bother), it's a great way to have pumpkin pie without a rolling pin. I don't know why this recipe was called "bar cookies" instead of a pie, but it's a really good pie and so easy to make.
<p></p>
S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-68557326371502081522023-11-20T01:16:00.000-08:002023-11-20T01:16:39.434-08:00Coffee Icing: or, Fun with percolators<p>I made these as an excuse to use the percolator.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KS4GmQqxW0ecaJGOVTfmYtK5W4mqp1WkGzgiHsn3Dpt8q2UGpXrHZVR87r4MdDSnn0tJzG1PW-xDqISRSArRlnUcit9BHM98Fq52rWSFydiT1BtpjzjnFCbEm1Q9gyGnGthAiwTferRqtFM_Cel-5k82teX2YA1XFr7evTmG2_7TiOOo8wI9iUmbnNSD/s3991/IMG_20230823_163942796.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2660" data-original-width="3991" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KS4GmQqxW0ecaJGOVTfmYtK5W4mqp1WkGzgiHsn3Dpt8q2UGpXrHZVR87r4MdDSnn0tJzG1PW-xDqISRSArRlnUcit9BHM98Fq52rWSFydiT1BtpjzjnFCbEm1Q9gyGnGthAiwTferRqtFM_Cel-5k82teX2YA1XFr7evTmG2_7TiOOo8wI9iUmbnNSD/s320/IMG_20230823_163942796.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td>
<b>Coffee Icing</b><br />
1½ cups granulated sugar<br />
¾ cups strong black coffee<br />
1 tsp butter<br />
<br />
Cook coffee and sugar until they form a soft ball when tested in cold water (about 240°F with a candy thermometer). Drop the butter on top without stirring it in. Then allow to cool until lukewarm.<br />
Beat the mixture until it thickens and lightens in color. Quickly spread onto the cake (it sets very fast).<br />
This is very good on spice cakes.<br /><br />
<i>Note:</i> The original recipe was for fudge icing. If you want to make it as written, stir three tablespoons of cocoa powder into the sugar before you begin (eliminating any lumps), and use milk instead of coffee.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: <i>A Book of Selected Recipes,</i> Mrs. George O. Thurn, 1934
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwGPtZgcP2Y2XKGbn3NWHuhK4Vj94qK_aDue1KF7OoqN88qEuL2f415yHqTLpN4SZc8lqZP8O5A1OVA-PQPoEd2tcjCKBhWNy8j_KURpkH3ZwwsiO6_M9ByC3KkrLpzYe-h5CttoHJQ4SBpy6Uj3wxrp0TceaUjQKSa_SQgG13d94HfpGNZW8R5N-DAHSz/s948/bibbon%20case.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="948" height="68" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwGPtZgcP2Y2XKGbn3NWHuhK4Vj94qK_aDue1KF7OoqN88qEuL2f415yHqTLpN4SZc8lqZP8O5A1OVA-PQPoEd2tcjCKBhWNy8j_KURpkH3ZwwsiO6_M9ByC3KkrLpzYe-h5CttoHJQ4SBpy6Uj3wxrp0TceaUjQKSa_SQgG13d94HfpGNZW8R5N-DAHSz/s320/bibbon%20case.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Book of Selected Recipes,</i> Mrs. George O. Thurn, 1934<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I don't like coffee, but I just find percolators so entertaining in their own understated way. And so, I wanted an excuse to use the one I have lying around the house. First, we revisited <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2015/08/mocha-cake-or-more-coffee.html" target="_blank">Mrs. George O Thurn's mocha cake</a>. I have let that recipe lie dormant for too long. Good recipes should not be pressed into the pages of a book, they should be splattered with errant eggs.
</p><p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2mUNYM-kGEVdwq1tXh9MaLIrOZ42nycQnKsHqDOkYGczRcZeUSASD2y2GRCPTtbfxYQfv_C0W4eXgtqC6Rg0IX9tP1eRLIJYnlx66lA0lUgXrwKdWKobIj0OIJXZk9V3zB5MyMN5dwbP9T4ZYSemsd1MTeNihsPh5_eTCHtuwu5j-XS4Bkw2AsjYzANH/s3470/IMG_20230823_153305764.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3470" data-original-width="2776" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2mUNYM-kGEVdwq1tXh9MaLIrOZ42nycQnKsHqDOkYGczRcZeUSASD2y2GRCPTtbfxYQfv_C0W4eXgtqC6Rg0IX9tP1eRLIJYnlx66lA0lUgXrwKdWKobIj0OIJXZk9V3zB5MyMN5dwbP9T4ZYSemsd1MTeNihsPh5_eTCHtuwu5j-XS4Bkw2AsjYzANH/s320/IMG_20230823_153305764.jpg" width="256" /></a> </p><p>But that was only one batch of coffee. And obviously, we can't drink quarts of iced coffee just as an excuse to operate the percolator again. You may think I'm daft just because I love the burbling sounds of this thing, and seeing the water splash up in the glass knob in the lid and gradually get darker. Also, it looks like an 1800s silver teapot with a power cord coming out the back. As things get tougher and tougher, sometimes it's nice to take pleasure in the little things without worrying about how silly you look. <br /></p><p>
Anyway, we've made a few attempts at boiled icing, and I thought that today was the perfect day to try making it with coffee. If it came out right, it would be like topping a cake with a delicious cup of iced coffee made to A Book of Cookrye standards. As a reminder, a cup of coffee in my happy world looks like this:
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gozsBnk18_U/VdnziDtbuCI/AAAAAAAATFs/MzbDhEWHAys/s640/100815-0229%2528001%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gozsBnk18_U/VdnziDtbuCI/AAAAAAAATFs/MzbDhEWHAys/s320/100815-0229%2528001%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div> <p></p><p>I took a boiled fudge icing
recipe from Mrs. George O. Thurn's book. At first I was like "Why does she have six recipes for boiled icing?" But actually, having six icing recipes allowed us to pick the one that matched what ingredients we had on hand. Five of them used egg whites, and I didn't want to waste egg yolks. One called for heavy cream, which never buy unless I have specific plans for it. And so, only one recipe remained to suit my percolator-related needs.<br /></p><p>And so, we took Mrs. George O. Thurn's recipe for fudge icing, omitted the cocoa powder, and
replaced the milk with coffee. As an aside, boiled icings use a <i>lot</i> of sugar. Just like <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/06/sour-cream-spice-cake-or.html" target="_blank">the last time we dabbled in boiled icing</a>, we are putting more sugar on top of the cake than we put in it.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvbiSdQNi6rPaTkx2DdYz-DF1XVLTF2PyxmOJT4mAROFq6sNBiUYeinyyvTfkGhPJc-JmYT7MIk6CW_qjeS3qoMwepP7Mu6Fs7d-rwqEHp3-4kS-M0gus4x2o5iqwm1BzIQw8NGiIw2XN8iFSTQwI20a06aV1dptmAZ4s7XsoznUkE3y0XQSFNV9eQowm/s4096/IMG_20230823_154839823.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvbiSdQNi6rPaTkx2DdYz-DF1XVLTF2PyxmOJT4mAROFq6sNBiUYeinyyvTfkGhPJc-JmYT7MIk6CW_qjeS3qoMwepP7Mu6Fs7d-rwqEHp3-4kS-M0gus4x2o5iqwm1BzIQw8NGiIw2XN8iFSTQwI20a06aV1dptmAZ4s7XsoznUkE3y0XQSFNV9eQowm/s320/IMG_20230823_154839823.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />In other words, after adding the coffee to the pot, I could have either made a batch of icing or drunk this as-is. I should note that I reduced the recipe to two-thirds its original quantity because I couldn't imagine putting nearly a pound of sugar on top of a small square cake- even though I only made the cake as a vehicle for said icing. Even after getting out the tiniest thing that was stovetop-safe, we barely had enough coffee to coat the bottom of it.
<p></p><p>
For the longest time, nothing happened in the pot. I began to wonder if the stove was defective or something. (I have a bit of a combative history with flat-top stoves.) But after a long time, the coffee boiled up so much that I wished I'd used a bigger pot.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoywHZqf2F7_FxObHUxS9HSdIqA0zBhyAWrsAuWISNHMCxBOAioiaTGlHZyPn3wJVqHL-A3VtZW4ZwtHwLVYvqNs9W5qQ0vvli9e7Ya6ZEweGAadw_4m2k6Y7VbnRoZXCKqsFuCsrVKXZuCtL1MEaPrlhbLlOtxzvbxkekg7hlxFEt-BNTYqg6nzVDT4SJ/s3469/IMG_20230823_155534459.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2602" data-original-width="3469" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoywHZqf2F7_FxObHUxS9HSdIqA0zBhyAWrsAuWISNHMCxBOAioiaTGlHZyPn3wJVqHL-A3VtZW4ZwtHwLVYvqNs9W5qQ0vvli9e7Ya6ZEweGAadw_4m2k6Y7VbnRoZXCKqsFuCsrVKXZuCtL1MEaPrlhbLlOtxzvbxkekg7hlxFEt-BNTYqg6nzVDT4SJ/s320/IMG_20230823_155534459.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />This mixture took a surprisingly long time to reach the soft-ball stage. I began to wonder if the milk used in the original recipe was crucial to making this icing work. But eventually, after a <i>lot</i> of stirring, the icing formed a soft ball when tried in iced water. And so, we set aside our syrup to cool down to nearly room temperature. I would have forgotten to add the butter had I not measured it out at the beginning and left it conspicuously waiting right in front of me.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi43ZR3Yz7wG7-SE7wWgN7dknc9tZmuGWQrzVxxWEH6032KiwuI8W16XYWVS_hV7C9GRHxstyE8Aum2IUYDACY2hfoGvAQp9OE_pxkOvZVB3wZhKw53E56QdyPI5nUncgVUF6blVkYWKBuxlaF0l5LgmlwOz4uBEmnnyuNjVgK4nDTJ1_RTDF4CH96DJPQ2/s4096/IMG_20230823_160646125.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi43ZR3Yz7wG7-SE7wWgN7dknc9tZmuGWQrzVxxWEH6032KiwuI8W16XYWVS_hV7C9GRHxstyE8Aum2IUYDACY2hfoGvAQp9OE_pxkOvZVB3wZhKw53E56QdyPI5nUncgVUF6blVkYWKBuxlaF0l5LgmlwOz4uBEmnnyuNjVgK4nDTJ1_RTDF4CH96DJPQ2/s320/IMG_20230823_160646125.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And so, we left the coffee syrup out to cool, just as we did when we made <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/06/sour-cream-spice-cake-or.html" target="_blank">Louise Bennett Weaver's spice cake</a>. Then came the long beating. And I do mean the <i>long</i> beating. I must have spent a solid fifteen minutes with a wooden spoon before seeing anything different in the pot. I began to wonder if I needed to return it to the stove for further boiling. Then, at long last, we began to see the slightest suspicion of a color change. After beating the snot out of the icing for still longer, it finally lightened to about the color of peanut butter.
<p></p><p>
I've seen a lot of candy instructions that say "beat until it loses its gloss," and decided that made sense for today's icing. We were again bitterly reminded of (what apparently is) a fundamental truth of boiled icing. You may have to beat the icing for half an eternity, but once it's ready you have at most 45 seconds to hastily smear it onto the cake. As you can see, I was not fast enough.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirxfGSh9WzJtDqrjI-klYtszzNVFK26902csBnBGyTuwyk6lhZFVl8XWZexWR3iYiDTeptUVxNndHwUZsixNbREzI0MUTGaOARujlZ8UBpxPbwoDyrx5woEKt4cj2i1fyf8Sm_tm1j3Wv7nxBxDRfrNYpVNtjXn8_6lZzopetWE2l8MCdz-d8jiHaHJ3cP/s4096/IMG_20230823_163328696.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirxfGSh9WzJtDqrjI-klYtszzNVFK26902csBnBGyTuwyk6lhZFVl8XWZexWR3iYiDTeptUVxNndHwUZsixNbREzI0MUTGaOARujlZ8UBpxPbwoDyrx5woEKt4cj2i1fyf8Sm_tm1j3Wv7nxBxDRfrNYpVNtjXn8_6lZzopetWE2l8MCdz-d8jiHaHJ3cP/s320/IMG_20230823_163328696.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Indeed, while the icing had been obstinately runny for a long time, it completely solidified onto the pot while I hastily tried to scrape it out and smear it onto the cake.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDMbUe6EhgLQOouT8LbKvUHQeqr8MMpSm83epS-QEaMgCvKTCVg40wTD8ZACO9f7-UGVVsztp0Ak7Cc3XO9Jrixz6YwqXl15h2xE2-sjVNjTJac-TIu9RNsD_DaXALMLi0ZLoIk2pZ9ZFWBLIFpfQs7vfD3w4doR0B94GuKmZyTM94K5aYXnA-kCJVIDy/s4096/IMG_20230823_162923762.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDMbUe6EhgLQOouT8LbKvUHQeqr8MMpSm83epS-QEaMgCvKTCVg40wTD8ZACO9f7-UGVVsztp0Ak7Cc3XO9Jrixz6YwqXl15h2xE2-sjVNjTJac-TIu9RNsD_DaXALMLi0ZLoIk2pZ9ZFWBLIFpfQs7vfD3w4doR0B94GuKmZyTM94K5aYXnA-kCJVIDy/s320/IMG_20230823_162923762.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />However, an easy solution to our icing ineptitude was at hand: the presentation platter! We could cut away and conceal all the unsightly edges, even if it meant no one (besides those who did the baking) got a corner piece.
<p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KS4GmQqxW0ecaJGOVTfmYtK5W4mqp1WkGzgiHsn3Dpt8q2UGpXrHZVR87r4MdDSnn0tJzG1PW-xDqISRSArRlnUcit9BHM98Fq52rWSFydiT1BtpjzjnFCbEm1Q9gyGnGthAiwTferRqtFM_Cel-5k82teX2YA1XFr7evTmG2_7TiOOo8wI9iUmbnNSD/s3991/IMG_20230823_163942796.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2660" data-original-width="3991" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KS4GmQqxW0ecaJGOVTfmYtK5W4mqp1WkGzgiHsn3Dpt8q2UGpXrHZVR87r4MdDSnn0tJzG1PW-xDqISRSArRlnUcit9BHM98Fq52rWSFydiT1BtpjzjnFCbEm1Q9gyGnGthAiwTferRqtFM_Cel-5k82teX2YA1XFr7evTmG2_7TiOOo8wI9iUmbnNSD/s320/IMG_20230823_163942796.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br /></p><p>The cake, of course, was fine. But I was more concerned with the icing on top..... which was absolutely delicious. You may think that boiling coffee for so long would ruin it, but it was just fine.<br /></p><p>Imagine a cake topped with coffee-flavored fudge on top, because that's what we got. I would definitely make it again. However, in the future, you shouldn't beat it <i>too</i> firm. As soon as it barely begins to lose its gloss, get it onto the cake- and fast. I wouldn't try to use boiled icing to cover a layer cake. The icing
would probably set in the saucepan before you were halfway done. But
it's great for when you're serving a cake out of the pan, or for drizzle
topping. </p><p>Also, this kind of icing requires <i>patience.</i> But on the bright side, you may offset the calories with the arm workout that comes with making it.
</p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-21947882778013814882023-11-15T00:36:00.000-08:002023-11-15T00:54:38.746-08:00Pumpkin Pie (Made With Carrots): or, Autumn-flavored deception<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika6lQxlQEInl_hncnh5y5-FhDbh5VpYiKo3g_PkgYagMR8nfXZ2whHrHNQ9L58JPuddTzuTrBQtl9ok_C5FBa6itk4NmvLnr0JpxkKlZiSdVqvGNuPK2gvWIvCsbRkYIdFGs_5WqTYe5D2QeJjjHepxARbIcZDNerWE3yljscBJmKNv2EQ7Xo9mfeiirb/s3429/IMG_20230624_012358078.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>Today on A Book of Cookrye, we are warping unsuspecting housemates' minds!</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><i>These taste just like pumpkin.</i><br /><b>Carrot Tarts</b><br /><br />
<i>Filling:</i><br />
⅔ cup cooked and cooled carrots (firmly press and squish them into the measuring cup to measure)*<br />
⅔ cup milk<br />
1 egg<br />
⅓ cup white sugar<br />
2 tsp dark brown sugar<br />
¾ tsp cinnamon<br />
½ tsp cloves<br />
¼ tsp salt<br />
¼ tsp ginger<br /><br />
<i>Pie crusts:</i><br />
1 cup flour<br />
⅓ cup butter<br />
pinch salt<br />
Water to form a dough<br /><br />
<i>To make the crusts:</i><br />
Make the pie crust dough and form into 1½-inch balls. Let rest in the refrigerator for at least thirty minutes. Then roll each one out and press into a cupcake pan. (You should have at least ten.) Refrigerate the empty tart shells for at least thirty minutes. Then bake at 350° until the just <i>barely</i> start to turn golden.<br />
Allow to cool. Then gently loosen and remove each one, and set it back into the pan. (This ensures that the crusts don't stick to the pan).<br />
<i>To make the filling:</i><br />
Heat oven to 375°.<br />
Place the carrots and the milk into a blender, and thoroughly liquefy. Add the egg, and blenderize until completely mixed.<br />
In a medium bowl, mix the sugar, salt, and spices. Be sure to break up any spice-clumps. Then pour in the blenderized carrots, and mix thoroughly. (If you have a large enough blender, you can simply add the sugar and spices and then blenderize everything some more.)<br />
Pour into the pie shells, filling them almost to the top. Bake for 10 minutes. Then reduce the oven temperature to 325° and bake 25 more minutes.<br />
Serve with whipped cream or nuts.<br /><br />
*You can boil or steam the carrots, but I suggest you microwave them instead. Cut them small enough that they fit inside a small bowl, add a spoonful of water, and cover with a wet paper towel. Microwave until fork-tender. Two carrots ended up being exactly the right amount for me, though results will vary depending on carrot size.<br /><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Adapted from "Helping the Homemaker" by Louise Bennett Weaver, <i>Fort Worth</i> (Texas) <i>Star-Telegram,</i> October 28 1933 morning edition, p. 5
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>
We at A Book of Cookrye are big fans of Betty Feezor, who had a cooking and housekeeping show in Charlotte, North Carolina from the fifties to the seventies. All of her ideas, recipes, and projects seem so feasible. </p><p>There's not a whole lot of surviving episodes (or at least, very few have been taken out of the television station's archives and put online), but a fair number of short clips are floating around. In choosing her craft projects and recipes, she seemed to always keep in mind that her audience didn't have a lot of time to spend hand-embroidering anything. </p><p>I really like how she doesn't pretend her creations always come out perfect. It's a refreshing change from the TV presenters who cheerfully make it look like you can effortlessly whip up a wedding dress with built-in corset and then hand-paint an impressionist mural on the accent wall in your living room. In the only complete episode of her show currently on YouTube, <a href="https://youtu.be/J2xqJTS8u4A?si=UBqbanOhRNrMPW6l&t=7" target="_blank">she brings out a dress she made</a> that turned out too small, and shows how she fixed it. She ends by saying "So don't despair, there's always a way that you can correct your mistake."<br /></p><p>
Apparently her show remains fondly remembered decades after it ended. In a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/FLICKSTUDIOS/videos/683699592416512/" target="_blank">recent video montage</a> put up by her TV station, there's a short clip where she introduces her pumpkin pie recipe, saying "When we were first married, my husband and I tried to <i>peel</i> a pumpkin and cook it in little squares- and that's what lots of recipe books tell you to do. But they're <i>so hard</i> to cut. He had to do most of the peeling, and I tried to do some of the cutting and of course cut my hand as well as the pumpkin." She then suggests that you cut the pumpkin in half and bake it cut-side down in a pan of water. That way you only have to make a single cut through the raw pumpkin instead of spending forever hacking it into small pieces.
</p><p>
After telling us how to cook a pumpkin without the need for a husband or a first-aid kit, she goes on to give the advice that inspires today's recipe: "Now, you can use pumpkin, carrots, and squash interchangeably. And unless you tell the people that you're feeding what it is, they probably won't even know."
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIwrWgRVY__3OQfyDVAM9KioMJKFNDfCAgdUWKG_Tq_aVrgv7yXOMlmLqR5WLBTk30dbz63SYYfi6RdHSFsVYfrYwHSKe5h-Xtvrbq7qrEnxH8yrktZO3fBDY4cFunTOkScj_hRE6u7V8h7_oFHQUBX6sSzupHPzjaoIVNgs_cOX055y3cM97EqM6qeXu/s4096/IMG_20230623_211140511.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIwrWgRVY__3OQfyDVAM9KioMJKFNDfCAgdUWKG_Tq_aVrgv7yXOMlmLqR5WLBTk30dbz63SYYfi6RdHSFsVYfrYwHSKe5h-Xtvrbq7qrEnxH8yrktZO3fBDY4cFunTOkScj_hRE6u7V8h7_oFHQUBX6sSzupHPzjaoIVNgs_cOX055y3cM97EqM6qeXu/s320/IMG_20230623_211140511.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>We unfortunately have a surplus of carrots in the refrigerator. and I was more than willing to turn them into a pie. Instead of getting out a potato masher, I decided to do this the modern way. (As a side note, you can tell I've gotten blissfully used to having a dishwasher because I fearlessly use the blender, food processor, spice grinder, and other appliances that would be a real pain in the pumpkin to wash by hand.) </p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeykcRVsnb6b9R-vt3VECy4ntWdXXtWaum-3MwQASVAjQKIUVxtE9DjY7GVDh44livQwZ4xC42-vvas-O3hGaAlGS3oIxrF5SN8wj5ROO2JZQ4Eu-BLCM_6a9onKdf_U87X4jROHkl82uJbdVGKE8eTzzAFj3dyBm7DmEjxYm__EwTdfjFAGP_NE7j5E95/s3927/IMG_20230623_213348365.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3927" data-original-width="2944" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeykcRVsnb6b9R-vt3VECy4ntWdXXtWaum-3MwQASVAjQKIUVxtE9DjY7GVDh44livQwZ4xC42-vvas-O3hGaAlGS3oIxrF5SN8wj5ROO2JZQ4Eu-BLCM_6a9onKdf_U87X4jROHkl82uJbdVGKE8eTzzAFj3dyBm7DmEjxYm__EwTdfjFAGP_NE7j5E95/s320/IMG_20230623_213348365.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Of course, substituting carrots for pumpkin is a <i>very</i> old cooking tip. I see it mentioned in cookbooks and household hints from practically every decade, but I have always been a bit skeptical. After all, carrots taste nothing like pumpkin. But this time we saw the the idea from Betty Feezor, who surely wouldn't go on live TV and lie to the greater Charlotte metropolitan statistical area.
<p></p><p>
And so, I used <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/12/pumpkin-tarts-or-its-always-pumpkin.html" target="_blank">Louise Bennett Weaver's pumpkin tart recipe</a> (which you may recall that I digitally clipped from the newspaper before the free trial ended) because it turned out so good last time. Because the little pie crusts came out half-cooked when we last saw the recipe, I baked them until they barely started to change color before putting any pie filling in them. This worked just as well as I hoped. Our tarts had crisp, fully-baked crusts.<br /></p><p>The pie filling made with carrots was a lot thicker than the same recipe made with pumpkin. Those who saw the previous pumpkin tarts may remember that the pie filling was so watery that I could stir it into iced coffee (Which, assuming you have no reason to be leery of raw eggs, I highly recommend). <br /></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQGU7HXSFT0kPNtutYgMZhyphenhyphenJWemlN3jKbPUmXi4VD4kWCSKVn1ZLLDGzrx5nRlfUyNon6izzUpkAVbufDDr5vYdVqcgPI3RBqEOZVT2S7HnAYwH5mcU4olBPY2Ig3nElzSCtFtt-OavmejqeYRpacf1E8bHSLRzfW01MJyDweXF5hYTTxh9iTEpnSF9gUd/s4096/IMG_20230623_213434711.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQGU7HXSFT0kPNtutYgMZhyphenhyphenJWemlN3jKbPUmXi4VD4kWCSKVn1ZLLDGzrx5nRlfUyNon6izzUpkAVbufDDr5vYdVqcgPI3RBqEOZVT2S7HnAYwH5mcU4olBPY2Ig3nElzSCtFtt-OavmejqeYRpacf1E8bHSLRzfW01MJyDweXF5hYTTxh9iTEpnSF9gUd/s320/IMG_20230623_213434711.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />Aside from having to first cook and then blenderize the carrots, these were just as easy as the pumpkin tarts that contained actual pumpkin. One merely needs to dump everything into a bowl, stir it for a few seconds, then pour the resulting I-can't-believe-it's-not-pumpkin into the pie shells.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3y7GIev60ynAJk104BhbwXiYZPh4C4kxcjogzQHMQC1gBOOfHHRGiFBCXErtR2OqwFHGMUV_jMnzGP6wHUnO44v9Oijc49iv5puDPjLtB_9LN39TSdDr-_0YnueDw_BVZ9XtO_YY5dZjEqegemJSM6fx-STdKL0W4lvK5nmllu8m_hxsBFolwzXyLAWYZ/s4096/IMG_20230623_233442293.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3y7GIev60ynAJk104BhbwXiYZPh4C4kxcjogzQHMQC1gBOOfHHRGiFBCXErtR2OqwFHGMUV_jMnzGP6wHUnO44v9Oijc49iv5puDPjLtB_9LN39TSdDr-_0YnueDw_BVZ9XtO_YY5dZjEqegemJSM6fx-STdKL0W4lvK5nmllu8m_hxsBFolwzXyLAWYZ/s320/IMG_20230623_233442293.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As they baked, our carrot tarts smelled just like pumpkin tarts. They also looked just like pumpkin tarts. And when they were done, they puffed up just like pumpkin tarts.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib4YoC4UJGtLL4ko0siCAHP69jr5ozfxeP4UnMWRLEqwjUwFir0yi_Vj0IQ_uUT6Sxd-IaOxzqC0nQQ8CI1OYza7z5-BN_y9PgTNHGojjbhF8z8PWe3s2f7T5qO87oTgBWtbROj2ZwQaq9PZNzyRFHdJ2sgWIISK_-gzWFTq2A-nmDoOiRIn0-dBxJ3vUE/s3877/IMG_20230624_001615869.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2908" data-original-width="3877" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib4YoC4UJGtLL4ko0siCAHP69jr5ozfxeP4UnMWRLEqwjUwFir0yi_Vj0IQ_uUT6Sxd-IaOxzqC0nQQ8CI1OYza7z5-BN_y9PgTNHGojjbhF8z8PWe3s2f7T5qO87oTgBWtbROj2ZwQaq9PZNzyRFHdJ2sgWIISK_-gzWFTq2A-nmDoOiRIn0-dBxJ3vUE/s320/IMG_20230624_001615869.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>As the not-pumpkin tarts cooled, they fell back to their previous height. Most of them looked suspiciously perfect, though in full disclosure one or two of them cracked as they slowly deflated. But such aesthetic failures are why we have canned whipped cream. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ipZh-tLFBRu709qYhQ33fjsdHahVXyXeCvPS0R2kOZDPYkKs0-GxzwHeiGjmoaZeYkgQS0Hdl_w0jv-x7seH8oB01sIJ1HW9f7O4ZNz8LmGQ2sbILk8liQJyljf93yRc5L9T9yLAn50XLKP39Bm5FgRvd65jq4hVVL7CKKJ49vrduAKnOVmBX4u8GX9w/s4096/IMG_20230624_004242996.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ipZh-tLFBRu709qYhQ33fjsdHahVXyXeCvPS0R2kOZDPYkKs0-GxzwHeiGjmoaZeYkgQS0Hdl_w0jv-x7seH8oB01sIJ1HW9f7O4ZNz8LmGQ2sbILk8liQJyljf93yRc5L9T9yLAn50XLKP39Bm5FgRvd65jq4hVVL7CKKJ49vrduAKnOVmBX4u8GX9w/s320/IMG_20230624_004242996.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />But the real question, of course, is how did they taste? I served these without telling anyone of my surreptitious use of carrots, and no one suspected a thing. In fact, a few people came back for seconds without suspecting anything fishy about the, ahem, "pumpkin" tarts. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzaWdiP0OEnti2y1iGIyRuLctHFjetx8I-dKDSYg4JRftNT-OgqWIgf44qEWhN3yyWrkT2uHI8mNvgmt7DABoasajiJwfLNUy5GaWsh6DaGMTHaxULF35NzSVKQVKzZNMPOP2WMS51EhF4KJHKS6SO0IvvlFOdYnjm6b9rPYew2ijm7XZng4JgHQbyJol/s4096/IMG_20230624_004505115.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzaWdiP0OEnti2y1iGIyRuLctHFjetx8I-dKDSYg4JRftNT-OgqWIgf44qEWhN3yyWrkT2uHI8mNvgmt7DABoasajiJwfLNUy5GaWsh6DaGMTHaxULF35NzSVKQVKzZNMPOP2WMS51EhF4KJHKS6SO0IvvlFOdYnjm6b9rPYew2ijm7XZng4JgHQbyJol/s320/IMG_20230624_004505115.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />However, great consternation ensued when I told everyone the secret ingredient. Disbelief came first. "You mean these are <i>carrots?</i>" Unexpected dramatics immediately followed. "My entire perception of reality is bending! What even <i>is</i> pumpkin?" But at least if reality was bending, we had whipped cream to put on top.
<p></p><p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika6lQxlQEInl_hncnh5y5-FhDbh5VpYiKo3g_PkgYagMR8nfXZ2whHrHNQ9L58JPuddTzuTrBQtl9ok_C5FBa6itk4NmvLnr0JpxkKlZiSdVqvGNuPK2gvWIvCsbRkYIdFGs_5WqTYe5D2QeJjjHepxARbIcZDNerWE3yljscBJmKNv2EQ7Xo9mfeiirb/s3429/IMG_20230624_012358078.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2572" data-original-width="3429" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEika6lQxlQEInl_hncnh5y5-FhDbh5VpYiKo3g_PkgYagMR8nfXZ2whHrHNQ9L58JPuddTzuTrBQtl9ok_C5FBa6itk4NmvLnr0JpxkKlZiSdVqvGNuPK2gvWIvCsbRkYIdFGs_5WqTYe5D2QeJjjHepxARbIcZDNerWE3yljscBJmKNv2EQ7Xo9mfeiirb/s320/IMG_20230624_012358078.jpg" width="320" /></a> </p><p>In conclusion, and I barely believe it despite tasting the evidence, you really can substitute carrots for pumpkin in your pies. No one will know unless you serve the pumpkin and "pumpkin" pies side-by-side--- and even then, they may remain in pumpkin-spice ignorance. The carrots will help you see better, but you will never see that you were deceived.
</p><br />S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-61867568028433882412023-10-09T17:03:00.004-07:002023-11-15T00:44:03.464-08:00Tiny Timmies: or, Surprisingly subtle use of pineapple<p>Today on A Book of Cookrye, we are once again trusting recipes from readers! This one comes from Freezy, who has previously given us the delicious <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2021/07/wacky-cake-or-better-cooking-without.html" target="_blank">Wacky Cake</a> and the disastrous <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2015/02/banana-recipe-contest-you-call-these.html" target="_blank">banana "pancakes."</a>
</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Tiny Timmies</b><br />
1 small can (8-9 oz) crushed pineapple (preferably canned in syrup, but juice also works)<br />
½ cup butter<br />
1 cup packed light brown sugar (dark works too)<br />
1 egg<br />
2 tsp baking powder<br />
¼ teaspoon salt<br />
2 cups flour<br />
6 oz (1 cup) butterscotch chips<br />
3 oz (¾ cup) walnuts or pecans, crushed<br />
Optional candied cherries for a garnish (and if you really wanna make 'em look pineapple upside-downy)<br /><br />
Heat oven to 375°. Have greased or lined cookie sheets ready.
<br />Drain the pineapple, saving 3 tablespoons of the juice.
Mix flour and baking powder, set aside. Cream the butter and sugar. Add the egg, beat well. After beating the egg into the butter, add the juice (same way you'd add vanilla in another recipe). Then add the flour, beating just until blended. Mix in the chips, pineapple, and nuts last.<br />
Drop by the spoonful onto a greased or lined baking sheet. If desired, lightly spritz them with cooking spray and pat them flat. (The cooking spray prevents the dough from sticking to your fingers.)<br />Bake for 10-12 minutes. <br />When they're done, if you're using cherries, top each with a candied cherry when they're hot right from the oven before letting them cool.
<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: <i>The Cookie Book</i> by Eva Moore, 1973, via <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2023/08/hawaiian-drops-or-i-dont-know-why-i.html" target="_blank">Freezy</a></span></div>
</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>To begin with, we start with a small can of crushed pineapple. To my great dismay (and I do mean my <i>great</i> dismay), we found precisely zero store-brand cans of crushed pineapple. I had a serious argument with myself in the canned fruit aisle, asking whether I could morally justify purchasing name-brand pineapple or if I should send the recipe on to someone else.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyeosorRRRgW8e3ScVa36cmOIM0tLgJ7E8Q5ahHZpAgewuha3GabvbBC6OFJVVI7-VToOziTUetAiHu-X1ohXa8JERWULGp19fb2YvElYvUDw6yy0Ft41Amy6e-7S7jBWl3ySo4MD0tGGlWSLHlzqRrMAfC1u5ZQU64kLFZmTHM0AfaptpHWrawheurJLF/s4417/IMG_20230830_214013523.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3500" data-original-width="4417" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyeosorRRRgW8e3ScVa36cmOIM0tLgJ7E8Q5ahHZpAgewuha3GabvbBC6OFJVVI7-VToOziTUetAiHu-X1ohXa8JERWULGp19fb2YvElYvUDw6yy0Ft41Amy6e-7S7jBWl3ySo4MD0tGGlWSLHlzqRrMAfC1u5ZQU64kLFZmTHM0AfaptpHWrawheurJLF/s320/IMG_20230830_214013523.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Freezy wrote to "prepare in the usual fashion," which these days involves using high-wattage motors! (As a bonus, the bowl is microwave-safe, so it doesn't matter that I never remember to soften the butter.)
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifws4goVbvQMiKlmTMF4pxLNx1MFde2AdlabWB-cmzTgSI_mgzMHH-bSQ0BjDl9o69kGLIhjiZvdwz1TQGqhFEx8X-1h89wL_-wTIsd9nX3jeN3WoscV9gs4D6jxklKF0QvMxfyaCxvzhSgEeX_E25CoJ0loNW7O4BtX3Ju5CDwRLoOcdLPPT3AfaI0k7n/s4096/IMG_20230830_233435653.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifws4goVbvQMiKlmTMF4pxLNx1MFde2AdlabWB-cmzTgSI_mgzMHH-bSQ0BjDl9o69kGLIhjiZvdwz1TQGqhFEx8X-1h89wL_-wTIsd9nX3jeN3WoscV9gs4D6jxklKF0QvMxfyaCxvzhSgEeX_E25CoJ0loNW7O4BtX3Ju5CDwRLoOcdLPPT3AfaI0k7n/s320/IMG_20230830_233435653.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The recipe begins with the always-delicious union of brown sugar and butter- with the addition of pineapple juice. Upon taste-testing it with an unnecessarily large spoon, The pineapple juice and brown sugar in the resulting mixture tasted a lot like the top of a pineapple upside-down cake.
It was a bit saltier than I would have liked, but I figured the rest of the ingredients would dilute the salt until all was happily balanced.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvsJtENWDoLr6OL2EoUN8ViMZ50ENq0QtEIAn2xNSTYAU6wYW_Y0ezSU5i0FYnELd7I6ulhVIRnc2rZgIgpZuagvfGtkGC0Qhr9REZd-CtmImFzJP21JZ394Orma8giOl95JbRDOxvm98KyUAwryco9gwC1qmF0M09dWLPCOymHzBl5gqt8GFOjNPkQ3Y/s4096/IMG_20230830_233852570.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvsJtENWDoLr6OL2EoUN8ViMZ50ENq0QtEIAn2xNSTYAU6wYW_Y0ezSU5i0FYnELd7I6ulhVIRnc2rZgIgpZuagvfGtkGC0Qhr9REZd-CtmImFzJP21JZ394Orma8giOl95JbRDOxvm98KyUAwryco9gwC1qmF0M09dWLPCOymHzBl5gqt8GFOjNPkQ3Y/s320/IMG_20230830_233852570.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />At this point, things take a sharp turn towards Hawaiian! (As a reminder: in the world of processed foods, "Hawaiian" means "contains canned pineapple.") Our cookie dough looked like we went to one of those priced-by-the-pound frozen yogurt places that have topping buffets. You know, the ones where you can cover your (not-quite) ice cream in a mountain of gummy bears, chocolate chips, and crushed M&Ms. </p><p>I should note that while the recipe calls for "walnuts or pecans," I don't believe in walnuts. They always taste rancid, and ruin everything you put them in. (I've heard that they're very good right off the tree, but I don't have one around here to find out.) We used pecans instead. They're more expensive, but which costs more: higher-priced nuts, or throwing out an entire batch of cookies because they taste like walnuts? (Don't forget the cost of running the oven, and also the energy required for the house's air conditioning to counteract the oven heat.)
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZH7FtZyzO_vZuakxndPVXl0avXMzzoJfjlK7wZtdPJx2rObITljftUjUYFm8hN-uF09TDmt4aaub6RE2L_gIcxCkmqTG0LqAtisvUigUaJPtofXYCoBjlvgtPkjC4v6xh-zMgIbfpqftBrkTLOASYpTp5MSi2aJhbE2BUEY_JT3Fy6-sXDgmquAhKXcpy/s4096/IMG_20230830_234226366.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZH7FtZyzO_vZuakxndPVXl0avXMzzoJfjlK7wZtdPJx2rObITljftUjUYFm8hN-uF09TDmt4aaub6RE2L_gIcxCkmqTG0LqAtisvUigUaJPtofXYCoBjlvgtPkjC4v6xh-zMgIbfpqftBrkTLOASYpTp5MSi2aJhbE2BUEY_JT3Fy6-sXDgmquAhKXcpy/s320/IMG_20230830_234226366.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The dough tasted, of course, absolutely fantastic. I think butterscotch chips are to cookies what cream cheese icing is to cakes. They can fix anything that went wrong. Butterscotch chips will magically solve your failures, up to and possibly including using plaster of Paris instead of flour.
<p></p><p>But even if you ignore how butterscotch chips can get you out of all your baking failures, all the things in the cookie dough harmonized very well with each other. I argue that the trick to this recipe's success avoiding walnuts. All this time I thought I hated nuts in cookies, but it turns out I simply hate walnuts. And so, we dropped the<i> walnut-free</i> cookies onto the pan and popped them into the oven.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfp2Mh41BX9oPjzuki7mZPjlcK1-YpnG0MGwK51Gf2-yd8vxmCzzrgesgvQOKp4x3B5QhEOs1VXLPNIzZySUsHwkYi1C_zkcFBh710enhqmSRGg_KDm3kcV0eog9CRwPIgz7G-wiA1OiLCPUA-W8QE_z0SP5VDO9NM-R5XpN5hmssi99Q0a5ODgywAHkNm/s4096/IMG_20230830_234702871.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfp2Mh41BX9oPjzuki7mZPjlcK1-YpnG0MGwK51Gf2-yd8vxmCzzrgesgvQOKp4x3B5QhEOs1VXLPNIzZySUsHwkYi1C_zkcFBh710enhqmSRGg_KDm3kcV0eog9CRwPIgz7G-wiA1OiLCPUA-W8QE_z0SP5VDO9NM-R5XpN5hmssi99Q0a5ODgywAHkNm/s320/IMG_20230830_234702871.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Although cookies spread a little bit, they mostly stayed in the same plop-like shapes in which they landed on the pan. I expected them to flatten a lot since the dough was so sticky, but you just never know how cookies will behave under fire. I decided to flatten remaining ones a little bit before baking them. A quick spritz of cooking spray on top of the cookies made finger-patting them a quick task. The dough didn't stick to my hands at all.
<p></p><p>After the first batch of Tiny Timmies was (barely) cool enough to eat, we sampled them. "It's.... a bit salty." someone politely managed. And contrary to my hopes, the recipe's overgenerous allotment of salt had not been diluted by the flour or the nuts. They're not salty enough to be salted-caramel, but they're definitely saltier than they need to be. (I have adjusted for that in the recipe at the top.)<br /></p><p>But the saltiness is a small critique. And if you think I am saying the cookies were ruinously brined, this is how much remained of the first batch before the second one was out of the oven.
</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsSJLsW0TbcTZPHK8ojlNGnmQEgbbhMsGYfrnkuHRkj6tp_ELQjkt9o8pPeSEjLJfZ9TD5UW2VrQ0E4c04tLPRZYVcPosoZJLhgm7FdkQ2Lh64hk6KcgrTB501rMT5JspPtc-7awvLscWuA6E7a6vYcG_7HKOFXQMTpm7w3HOILMi2X9fjPcyoFTRnfu4/s4096/IMG_20230831_001911104.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsSJLsW0TbcTZPHK8ojlNGnmQEgbbhMsGYfrnkuHRkj6tp_ELQjkt9o8pPeSEjLJfZ9TD5UW2VrQ0E4c04tLPRZYVcPosoZJLhgm7FdkQ2Lh64hk6KcgrTB501rMT5JspPtc-7awvLscWuA6E7a6vYcG_7HKOFXQMTpm7w3HOILMi2X9fjPcyoFTRnfu4/s320/IMG_20230831_001911104.jpg" width="320" /></a> </p><p>These cookies were fantastically good. They were just firm enough to be satisfying, but still soft instead of crunchy. The pecans got lightly toasted as the cookies baked, and somehow radiated their flavor throughout the dough. However, I should note that you need to put these into well-sealed containers. Some cookies stay good if you leave them out on a plate for a day or two, but Tiny Timmies do not. Also, you will have a <i>lot</i> of Tiny Timmies.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwH_c-QKywFkx6Tfjiqq-AVbEYqfzzDov88GJwDgUesJNmhi2Kvn3MwEEF7RUJfRtSYWZpN0rk9rCv2xzqiImh2uSx8aC777_b-VkhpntUIOHRH-70rSvn3XDcD-srO23r_1l_h6NBePtlwS24OSiobzk9ISjqH2oTRZTEakGEmh6LltmrLGQL99Y7W5t/s4096/IMG_20230831_005111429.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwH_c-QKywFkx6Tfjiqq-AVbEYqfzzDov88GJwDgUesJNmhi2Kvn3MwEEF7RUJfRtSYWZpN0rk9rCv2xzqiImh2uSx8aC777_b-VkhpntUIOHRH-70rSvn3XDcD-srO23r_1l_h6NBePtlwS24OSiobzk9ISjqH2oTRZTEakGEmh6LltmrLGQL99Y7W5t/s320/IMG_20230831_005111429.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As an amusing postscript, one person who had already eaten more than a good-sized handful of these looked down with surprise at the cookie in his hand and said "Wait, is that <i>pineapple?"</i> So, this is the second time we can use the phrase "<a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2015/08/carrot-cake-xi-now-with-pineapples.html" target="_blank">subtle use of pineapple</a>" when describing a recipe. <p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyvYz3G6QZfj8HCUaH8zK3MaPd6fiYJGiYgDcizlyZD7gvpIiewuXetNruIk9TB-4JZY7zIEbpWMaytK6VYvEc9jvFmEfioZBqVgUr3Xhw7pwvzfEIclw3ODZ-RqzbnXyj187-oLV71WK26qvkmFgoELMV7SPd4s0ls3cS-oa9zZ-yiA7_bYqzaYq_Lim/s4096/IMG_20230831_004257019.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyvYz3G6QZfj8HCUaH8zK3MaPd6fiYJGiYgDcizlyZD7gvpIiewuXetNruIk9TB-4JZY7zIEbpWMaytK6VYvEc9jvFmEfioZBqVgUr3Xhw7pwvzfEIclw3ODZ-RqzbnXyj187-oLV71WK26qvkmFgoELMV7SPd4s0ls3cS-oa9zZ-yiA7_bYqzaYq_Lim/s320/IMG_20230831_004257019.jpg" width="320" /></a> <br /></p>
S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-4824071054254388312023-10-05T00:20:00.005-07:002023-10-05T04:57:22.974-07:00Burger-Onion Shortcake: or, A delicious greasy time capsule<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OXv0_eQPxifbvvGB1uj8G5HI0U53QThbYk03jx0adcSRGDfvUunLGdks6pPxqbMLj6DmQcCDV8-jm-N5agCWFfho_zRzUkEtOwi09H5-bwdSphxzaPR7zaiN7SbXbkQVMFy24bluMzRaN7EESW8rO1kzt-FlH3mBCP1G5HZj-W8YzAsdZxL4a9dUpxTj/s600/ezgif-2-dd3719eb88.gif" style="display: none;" />
<p>Let's go back to the days when beef was cheap.</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>'Burger-Onion Shortcake</b><br />
1 pound lean ground beef*<br />
1 can (1¼ cup) condensed onion soup (undiluted)<br />
Seasonings to taste<br />
1 or 2 tbsp mustard<br />
2 sandwich-sized slices of cheese<br />
1 tbsp flour (optional)<br /><br />
Heat oven to 350°. Grease an ovenproof skillet.<br />
Mix beef with seasonings and a quarter-cup of onion soup.<br />
Shape half the meat into a patty. Place in the pan. Spread a <i>very thin</i> layer of mustard on it. (It's easier to fingerpaint the mustard on than to use a spatula or knife.) Lay a slice of cheese on top. Then spread with a half cup of soup.
Make a patty out of the remaining meat, and lay it on top of the first one. Repeat the layers: Spread the meat with mustard, top with cheese, then spread the remaining soup on top.<br />
Bake for 45 minutes. Upon removing it from the oven, cover the pan with foil and allow to rest for 10 minutes.<br />
For onion gravy, remove the meat and then warm the drippings over medium heat. Spoon this on top of servings. If desired, thicken the gravy with flour.<br />
<br />
*You want the leanest beef you can get. There's no point in the recipe where you drain off the fat.<br />
<br />
<i>Note:</i> Even though stacking the meat like a shortcake is the whole gimmick of the recipe, we do not recommend it. The top layer will slide off anyway. We recommend either making one big patty, or baking the two of them side-by-side.<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: Mid-Century Menu
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrUn5MQJILkJJn-wz07dhXE29n_rgleeMbD-kCp_gKboL2xkWxL9CH_R_lTDYQ90fe8yGhwn1TSJSSbvFEWYoi08TbPDjCoUppuNlRJP2j0Eg7QVeK3mbBjidwtw3FZN3JQ6vJgrKZGajAdXu48G4EftZfZy_WTyt4wPyzwxNC3ceXt905xlo7aPXjTC1/s797/Onion%20Shortcake.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="797" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrUn5MQJILkJJn-wz07dhXE29n_rgleeMbD-kCp_gKboL2xkWxL9CH_R_lTDYQ90fe8yGhwn1TSJSSbvFEWYoi08TbPDjCoUppuNlRJP2j0Eg7QVeK3mbBjidwtw3FZN3JQ6vJgrKZGajAdXu48G4EftZfZy_WTyt4wPyzwxNC3ceXt905xlo7aPXjTC1/s320/Onion%20Shortcake.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />This comes to us from Mid-Century Menu, and is more of a time capsule today than it was before anyone outside of medical science had ever heard the word "coronavirus." In those ever-farther-away times, ground beef was (if not exactly cheap) priced more like a weekend treat than a premeditated splurge. Sometimes I can't believe that I once did hamburgers like this.
<p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OXv0_eQPxifbvvGB1uj8G5HI0U53QThbYk03jx0adcSRGDfvUunLGdks6pPxqbMLj6DmQcCDV8-jm-N5agCWFfho_zRzUkEtOwi09H5-bwdSphxzaPR7zaiN7SbXbkQVMFy24bluMzRaN7EESW8rO1kzt-FlH3mBCP1G5HZj-W8YzAsdZxL4a9dUpxTj/s600/ezgif-2-dd3719eb88.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OXv0_eQPxifbvvGB1uj8G5HI0U53QThbYk03jx0adcSRGDfvUunLGdks6pPxqbMLj6DmQcCDV8-jm-N5agCWFfho_zRzUkEtOwi09H5-bwdSphxzaPR7zaiN7SbXbkQVMFy24bluMzRaN7EESW8rO1kzt-FlH3mBCP1G5HZj-W8YzAsdZxL4a9dUpxTj/s320/ezgif-2-dd3719eb88.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amusing before the pandemic, a heart-stopping extravagance today.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Unless prices drastically change in the grocery store, people in the future will be astonished that ordinary people used to spontaneously buy large quantities of ground beef. The idea of casually grilling hamburgers in the park will be as mythical as the days when servants in New England would threaten to quit if their cheapskate employers served lobster more than twice a week.<br /><p></p><p>Anyway, let's look at the recipe. It's called a "burger-onion shortcake." We have <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2016/09/a-book-of-cookrye-goes-to-abroad-or.html" target="_blank">previously discussed</a> how America can turn any food into a dessert- such as transforming a traditional Italian pasta dish into "chocolate lasagna." It looks like we have found the rare reverse of that process today. <br /></p><p>
Here is the surprisingly sparse allotment of ingredients. The canned onion soup was tricky to find. It seems very few people buy any, because it was hidden in the corner of the lowest shelf. I needed a few minutes to spot it. What's worse, <i>there was no store-brand onion soup.</i> I don't know what made me wince harder: purchasing name-brand canned soup, or buying extra-lean ground beef to dump the canned soup into.
</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ol4Hz1I_O5OLYDakk--eqXY3MzLoIS_ngHV0Zz3xraWE6rpTu86vK1bjC1_p2_oJufds3J9rsHlfL0AWnD6Nj7nhEGzqyERqmP9IqmFwKUheBexacou6CcRvM9a5k-p1b11yt1ErPWlUXGRYibIUi2BOtB7pHGcgA-x4cJgLga4WzxMkK5xUKXDVGeYG/s4096/IMG_20230821_213151413.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ol4Hz1I_O5OLYDakk--eqXY3MzLoIS_ngHV0Zz3xraWE6rpTu86vK1bjC1_p2_oJufds3J9rsHlfL0AWnD6Nj7nhEGzqyERqmP9IqmFwKUheBexacou6CcRvM9a5k-p1b11yt1ErPWlUXGRYibIUi2BOtB7pHGcgA-x4cJgLga4WzxMkK5xUKXDVGeYG/s320/IMG_20230821_213151413.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I tried and failed to make myself feel better about paying name-brand prices for gelatinous glop. Upon cautiously dipping in a spoon, we found that canned onion soup is actually not too bad. It was very reminiscent of canned cream of celery soup, which I argue is far superior to cream of mushroom for gluing casseroles together.
<p></p><p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJHHsKvdcyLv_hJZsHoyj4b9NLscW02mRCEQGkJKsFvJ6GfD0WoY6ejKY6FyBwTzXIFt7HU5UBGzl2-Xo_E_GlY7YT-gQ_XTnduW7K0oO733KYxGQR_AIu5JkpMDP_Kb64dfXmqGg0XP9ONATsT0cYIZCEvHgHs_p7ppO8uOdD7dqeC3fnLPCZs58cuZDq/s4096/IMG_20230821_213256643.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJHHsKvdcyLv_hJZsHoyj4b9NLscW02mRCEQGkJKsFvJ6GfD0WoY6ejKY6FyBwTzXIFt7HU5UBGzl2-Xo_E_GlY7YT-gQ_XTnduW7K0oO733KYxGQR_AIu5JkpMDP_Kb64dfXmqGg0XP9ONATsT0cYIZCEvHgHs_p7ppO8uOdD7dqeC3fnLPCZs58cuZDq/s320/IMG_20230821_213256643.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I paid full price for this.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />To repeat, I don't know which extravagance hit me harder, the name-brand soup or the log of extra-lean beef. Either way, this is one of the most expensive mixing bowls we've done in a long time.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8j52DNsdQgj7ulSs0_uCfH9jlKYEAWo_0qyV7Iz5_rRLZAWYQVRUR1pW93lJdaIEY3DW2S90iGtnKbn_2qWm_CRPfh0Rb7OM-O6GTu5fj5qw1mb8h_fpL66AqfhcTZjYex0rLfFQL8GHYl4sOrVyI852IGjaOZjqFpK29PP4ixp-Xd-iqtno5BO_M9mK/s4096/IMG_20230821_213455251.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8j52DNsdQgj7ulSs0_uCfH9jlKYEAWo_0qyV7Iz5_rRLZAWYQVRUR1pW93lJdaIEY3DW2S90iGtnKbn_2qWm_CRPfh0Rb7OM-O6GTu5fj5qw1mb8h_fpL66AqfhcTZjYex0rLfFQL8GHYl4sOrVyI852IGjaOZjqFpK29PP4ixp-Xd-iqtno5BO_M9mK/s320/IMG_20230821_213455251.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As often happens with meatloaf, the mixing spoon was useless. You have to get in there with your hands. The canned soup turned our beef into sticky mess.
<p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiNXpp88ryKmjfteKg5MxKHISG7ZRf8hWndaqE0Wgk8-odLfDpZaqO0SCNSle9fKPNMrVC6FhoKKo8JteFqF-7BF2g2zpLq4ve3T4YVECZr2wqPkuYctPoox_K9k3yeitPjh0LeanOdKrzpZA0CBsyv7pKSs_3W3II7UBb66aYKHT1XE82RLcuoCmhzCI6/s4096/IMG_20230821_213908499.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiNXpp88ryKmjfteKg5MxKHISG7ZRf8hWndaqE0Wgk8-odLfDpZaqO0SCNSle9fKPNMrVC6FhoKKo8JteFqF-7BF2g2zpLq4ve3T4YVECZr2wqPkuYctPoox_K9k3yeitPjh0LeanOdKrzpZA0CBsyv7pKSs_3W3II7UBb66aYKHT1XE82RLcuoCmhzCI6/s320/IMG_20230821_213908499.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />Reading ahead in the recipe, we see that after baking we are meant to thicken the pan drippings with flour. So, to economize on dishes, I chose to bake this lovely beefy shortcake in a pan that is equally at home in the oven and on the stovetop. </p><p>As an incidental note, this skillet was part of a pair that I bought so I could give the bigger one away as a wedding present. I should have waited for the fifth anniversary to shop for gifts, because they didn't have one.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5OrEXRHjIWW7a9vRfFoejj9GRq5guZ3pyZGb_h1OUJ0y7--ktJxmS8MKu-hWq0cl59ErTHagj1UfUeHqh3iQpuuKmz5mnkx7faAZdixWk-_g9IUxNdwuIBrrIR82S0PcZ4HTwcP6DFoSiLH-bvf1dksaIbbpRap4ZjEtB49xUyUX_-rouVKzzq1G_J2l9/s4096/IMG_20230821_213938558.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5OrEXRHjIWW7a9vRfFoejj9GRq5guZ3pyZGb_h1OUJ0y7--ktJxmS8MKu-hWq0cl59ErTHagj1UfUeHqh3iQpuuKmz5mnkx7faAZdixWk-_g9IUxNdwuIBrrIR82S0PcZ4HTwcP6DFoSiLH-bvf1dksaIbbpRap4ZjEtB49xUyUX_-rouVKzzq1G_J2l9/s320/IMG_20230821_213938558.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />Well, having gotten our first sticky slab of beef into the pan, it was time to start making delicious layers of, um, cake! It begins with a big squirt of delicious mustard. Anyone with sense would say this is ridiculous. But for those trying this at home, you should know that it's easier to fingerpaint the mustard onto the shortcake than spoon-spread it. </p><p>Also, this was too much mustard. Use less. You want to <i>barely</i> coat the top, not generously paint it. <br /></p><p></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjpGjLlqtt151RWBuvDeKsJ7aZ-uHloz82ghxb1YqkXOeb_bhwf4GO9hrOQ_c3nq9119H_RmhmbiJUPlR-u72xsLnzEv_n0Q2xJvPpyvDQmjJbCbyLO1wTNsapVP03LvF6OzpKnRUS12Zfic-ZPBVhcDAnz1IKUqWBV_16co_D3ZLSRyIuNANEvRr6BQj/s4096/IMG_20230821_214050905.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjpGjLlqtt151RWBuvDeKsJ7aZ-uHloz82ghxb1YqkXOeb_bhwf4GO9hrOQ_c3nq9119H_RmhmbiJUPlR-u72xsLnzEv_n0Q2xJvPpyvDQmjJbCbyLO1wTNsapVP03LvF6OzpKnRUS12Zfic-ZPBVhcDAnz1IKUqWBV_16co_D3ZLSRyIuNANEvRr6BQj/s320/IMG_20230821_214050905.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />And now we get to the only part of this recipe that bears a glancing resemblance to shortcake: putting dairy in the middle. But instead of whipped cream, it's cheese! I probably should have gotten cheddar for period-correctness, but pepper jack was in the fridge. </p><p>Having briefly flirted with normality and cheese, we bring out this recipe's reason for existence: a big mound of name-brand cream-of-onion ooze. We don't have a source for this recipe, but I am willing to bet my beefcake that it was an advertisement for canned soup.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuYcAbx6MkAcosAUOeC96If0OKon3ruYNbVeOzM9jD7mfVlJ8tEMvYap3l-YvsjlDVa3avZYV_L2GbKXT18LqePibXtLDLdZ5DLXuE7HzqEo9RaTw6dvQXX-8wmz2xKnvuFK7FaH6O68ABz5VEkuXHrpOqYXCDLEJSs08Q9sc7Qt4J76CtRHbj_6Ghsim/s4096/IMG_20230821_214205526.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuYcAbx6MkAcosAUOeC96If0OKon3ruYNbVeOzM9jD7mfVlJ8tEMvYap3l-YvsjlDVa3avZYV_L2GbKXT18LqePibXtLDLdZ5DLXuE7HzqEo9RaTw6dvQXX-8wmz2xKnvuFK7FaH6O68ABz5VEkuXHrpOqYXCDLEJSs08Q9sc7Qt4J76CtRHbj_6Ghsim/s320/IMG_20230821_214205526.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The canned soup was unexpectedly tricky to spread. It kept uprooting my carefully-placed cheese.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_Zx3jlzQHOc0hm27flA03cg5WJ-i6_EEdH5cS1HXr4S6HkxFSpegtPdWWbPix3qovmm6NhDXA7bOci8L7qa93dla_wHzJj2GToeGC3UOHVxBIzw2nhvCzDcH0g0k5Gzzn1PBtioGNNaulVT74OcRl95CNWg1WA64tZsxYhV-BacQZp22P1ajcQXrfmga/s4096/IMG_20230821_214249125.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_Zx3jlzQHOc0hm27flA03cg5WJ-i6_EEdH5cS1HXr4S6HkxFSpegtPdWWbPix3qovmm6NhDXA7bOci8L7qa93dla_wHzJj2GToeGC3UOHVxBIzw2nhvCzDcH0g0k5Gzzn1PBtioGNNaulVT74OcRl95CNWg1WA64tZsxYhV-BacQZp22P1ajcQXrfmga/s320/IMG_20230821_214249125.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Well, that finishes the first layer. We carefully shaped a second beef patty to match the first, or at least tried to. It landed with a THWAP.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixP4o5uMDSE3RLHFEWORgthnkRZL74DoETPx5MeFX6MdIw-NMgr2ast3WCJu00JkEGh7quZCuJuS04G0ikUhP_R4k435iHzjwafpwsJrUSZz8ofUnFMrlRefiwuwWhYPxful_uNlPvUQ7lVzvqYuBUH6prGPHiTmDM0PCXMs5hK_2-XQ4X1d4b3lEHjDXH/s4096/IMG_20230821_214332566.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixP4o5uMDSE3RLHFEWORgthnkRZL74DoETPx5MeFX6MdIw-NMgr2ast3WCJu00JkEGh7quZCuJuS04G0ikUhP_R4k435iHzjwafpwsJrUSZz8ofUnFMrlRefiwuwWhYPxful_uNlPvUQ7lVzvqYuBUH6prGPHiTmDM0PCXMs5hK_2-XQ4X1d4b3lEHjDXH/s320/IMG_20230821_214332566.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The recipe didn't say to put mustard on both beeves, but I did anyway because we already had the mustard measured out and I refuse to donate condiments to the city dump. (We squirted the mustard into a tiny bowl before beginning to avoid getting germy raw-meat hands all over the bottle. Having a dishwasher makes culinary hygiene a breeze.)
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV98oq7Y5FT7-rm0L5Fhja6k3lYVHNt77NyB-wSQ0UZAHnyTSsYl9CWd-wvK_yuk400E2gIFEzxudBYKd77mwJhLMZWe_SGN32m1ujo6EU6vR7GI0H7oj1WtgoSiB4sk5BTDIDgEU5Rn2rEr3CHydZSmDtz58HC28WKbOgto9czcnw_rPMzkDvXt1tn4vZ/s4096/IMG_20230821_214427704.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV98oq7Y5FT7-rm0L5Fhja6k3lYVHNt77NyB-wSQ0UZAHnyTSsYl9CWd-wvK_yuk400E2gIFEzxudBYKd77mwJhLMZWe_SGN32m1ujo6EU6vR7GI0H7oj1WtgoSiB4sk5BTDIDgEU5Rn2rEr3CHydZSmDtz58HC28WKbOgto9czcnw_rPMzkDvXt1tn4vZ/s320/IMG_20230821_214427704.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And here it is, ready to bake! You'd think we'd be directed to complete our beef shortcake with cheese on top, but the recipe says to crown this with canned soup.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3GiymDIjyc_BUrtmMNfLW4RSWf7FPAbGWiVLMPaPLqSVsI0ASAKVinNPUR1It_0x0bUv3R9DKHDNxcmeWx72P0Yle5L929cQSgnyS7frQdgHEVscWBwFJAorQGXiZ1TV6jddfn296ldhjgogAAKf6tViAJy6vsOxFKkh6qve6AasievccZGwIKFhhx47/s4096/IMG_20230821_214645633.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3GiymDIjyc_BUrtmMNfLW4RSWf7FPAbGWiVLMPaPLqSVsI0ASAKVinNPUR1It_0x0bUv3R9DKHDNxcmeWx72P0Yle5L929cQSgnyS7frQdgHEVscWBwFJAorQGXiZ1TV6jddfn296ldhjgogAAKf6tViAJy6vsOxFKkh6qve6AasievccZGwIKFhhx47/s320/IMG_20230821_214645633.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Our kitchen smelled like fast food as the shortcake baked. Unless you noticed the dirty dishes in the sink, you'd have thought I went out for drive-thru instead of baking at the house. The hot cheese, the onions in synthetic soup, and the beef somehow united to smell like the the interior of a car when you've decided that you don't have it in you to cook dinner tonight.<br /><p></p><p>
After the baking time elapsed, we opened the oven to find that our beef shortcake had turned into a brown-black pustule floating in canned onion ooze. To my surprise, the soup on top had turned a decent golden brown. But that didn't make our shortcake look any better. </p><p>You will also note that our two layers of meat slid off of each other as they baked.</p><p></p><p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzyE9U7EBBdoKu0rRaAZCpE_I4-tovU-ZiYPu1_KFGUo-nCeCRGG8idb4CXaQWmIpaf2cQlZ4i_5jfHgzsDi_Jc6i7IE1YS4NGkVZuZSZWX0qs5TZKM0S5p0SJrmATVOc17K7DISfQvxF2LD7BTgVLQkD1mGingJmFKLsyj34lqnoZtiskFNTD6_aOLAOB/s4096/IMG_20230821_223418557.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzyE9U7EBBdoKu0rRaAZCpE_I4-tovU-ZiYPu1_KFGUo-nCeCRGG8idb4CXaQWmIpaf2cQlZ4i_5jfHgzsDi_Jc6i7IE1YS4NGkVZuZSZWX0qs5TZKM0S5p0SJrmATVOc17K7DISfQvxF2LD7BTgVLQkD1mGingJmFKLsyj34lqnoZtiskFNTD6_aOLAOB/s320/IMG_20230821_223418557.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again, I bought name-brand soup and extra-lean beef for this.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />You might think we are finished, but the recipe ends with "For onion gravy thicken drippings with two tablespoons flour." Before we could do that, I had to get the meat out of the pan. The burger-onion shortcake fell apart. I thought I would lift it out with a wide spatula, but ended up scooping out fragments of beef with a slotted spoon. <p></p><p>I understand that for many people, their first attempts at grilling hamburgers end up falling apart while they helplessly try to keep the meat from falling through the rack onto the flames below. I did not expect a similar experience with meatloaf.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfrUeP0KdPZke-frnXVeHfo9eMJ3eiWjXbUBXHCFq5j1sQixIQzulmjsxCEDrEp7_3Ev4dS_G4rnZD0Blrq-6-0xB_Q99VBvdgdhBS9t0Y3B9_bkohchiosUZhb36CmAoGXEW7O_kcoRNGg_fT23Fye-jSTZTAtYt6c4T2fsaWMR9IKX6pdu24GUCOTjjf/s4096/IMG_20230821_224726129.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfrUeP0KdPZke-frnXVeHfo9eMJ3eiWjXbUBXHCFq5j1sQixIQzulmjsxCEDrEp7_3Ev4dS_G4rnZD0Blrq-6-0xB_Q99VBvdgdhBS9t0Y3B9_bkohchiosUZhb36CmAoGXEW7O_kcoRNGg_fT23Fye-jSTZTAtYt6c4T2fsaWMR9IKX6pdu24GUCOTjjf/s320/IMG_20230821_224726129.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Moving back to what remained in the pan, this is the first time I have ever tried the old-fashioned practice of making gravy out of pan drippings. I didn't understand why I was supposed to thicken this at all because it looked just fine already. (Or at least, it looked as good as you can expect for canned soup with beef runoff.)
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjbi2UWNOtPV5tvh6-NKaOwV0xfJiRbPvfdF-KBa41e2hHY215jv1Yl8Uce2dnLkIUYs91_tyaMUTk8CwLTML13_4YqL57ghbShOCU3uZh63W7WSken6GubZGlJV-F0CgaLfJBSZ8w_NE4VV6DGu8ndCot6kwMHRaVfkWQeTHluuu5koFgtKKUFn2RDtq/s4096/IMG_20230821_224158329.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjbi2UWNOtPV5tvh6-NKaOwV0xfJiRbPvfdF-KBa41e2hHY215jv1Yl8Uce2dnLkIUYs91_tyaMUTk8CwLTML13_4YqL57ghbShOCU3uZh63W7WSken6GubZGlJV-F0CgaLfJBSZ8w_NE4VV6DGu8ndCot6kwMHRaVfkWQeTHluuu5koFgtKKUFn2RDtq/s320/IMG_20230821_224158329.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Because I prefer to make recipes as written so that I can blame the writers, I followed the instructions. Our gravy, made as directed, was a brown paste. If we <i>must</i> have gravy with our hamburger shortcake, I think you'd be better off just spooning the drippings out of the pan without modifying them with flour.
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</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90_LyVxyPPMvVv8pNv3_TnfjvlEP3eYci1-bkf_l1Gd2XO8GdCp1sLpFnWqNGjFsBjcLuGGr0DQRnqlEAuzMZN7ZJWh2rJD6B_01g4Mn5tE_pfvFlSM9t_faWt8sILeyheOzZcC0-5RExLg_sPCamSOKuwLqWi9ldQB-5o9DiF9-wHNGWVGY4V_5kkNJw/s4096/IMG_20230821_224447811.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90_LyVxyPPMvVv8pNv3_TnfjvlEP3eYci1-bkf_l1Gd2XO8GdCp1sLpFnWqNGjFsBjcLuGGr0DQRnqlEAuzMZN7ZJWh2rJD6B_01g4Mn5tE_pfvFlSM9t_faWt8sILeyheOzZcC0-5RExLg_sPCamSOKuwLqWi9ldQB-5o9DiF9-wHNGWVGY4V_5kkNJw/s320/IMG_20230821_224447811.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>See those mounds of brownish ooze on either side of our serving of shortcake? That's supposed to be the gravy. I would have simply served it right out of the pan, but apparently it was too runny for the test kitchen full of professional home economists. Because I followed the recipe's directions, our gravy looks like unfortunate plops of slime.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_hNJt1LX5_Iu-5zFi0V_VaRSb2fCAZKRgtye-w_NtWxZ2ineRyqF7Y68eUgDJp4ikqGgnDck4kKSjpinN-3jc1Gw65I4M_FV9aStac0NsnMoFUXYQ2dOyXtEQUAKU0NzSIqYlJ1HxuBtmcZXlnzBaBU5m02y2JuE15rx74MOYlVvn9pObrPh_Cn0OMDk/s3423/IMG_20230821_224950069.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2567" data-original-width="3423" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_hNJt1LX5_Iu-5zFi0V_VaRSb2fCAZKRgtye-w_NtWxZ2ineRyqF7Y68eUgDJp4ikqGgnDck4kKSjpinN-3jc1Gw65I4M_FV9aStac0NsnMoFUXYQ2dOyXtEQUAKU0NzSIqYlJ1HxuBtmcZXlnzBaBU5m02y2JuE15rx74MOYlVvn9pObrPh_Cn0OMDk/s320/IMG_20230821_224950069.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Our burger-onion shortcake tasted near-exactly like a hamburger from a drive-thru. It seemed like it should have come out of a brown paper bag that had gone translucent with grease. I think I overdid it with the mustard, but in my defense the recipe didn't give a measurement. I would make this again (if ground beef was like 50% off), but with less cheese and less mustard. Rather than completely covering the layers, one cheese slice on each is enough.<br /><p></p><p></p><p>
I did not feel compelled to save the gravy.</p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-14650048114171747822023-10-04T01:55:00.018-07:002023-10-05T00:32:12.595-07:00Gumdrop Cookies: or, Little drops of whimsy<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrTiL2FIbyGQpyBoR3wMSEYWh8XTl4H95tAlbLNeee03Ji-Hpq7_zRk9tTxBeg2HzoC9wkhJShXIgHtXdUvDE9PwdkZIIy6CTvfBLvnkEyYm_kYYpSGFWJ0HDRt5Tfb93ibbmb0zu_KDZeCw5tFkTtstNjAqo2inQUPJ9F5lfTylrgRqwJMsKbPC_SFj17/s4096/IMG_20230915_010334944.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>I liked the recipe, but not enough to buy the knickknack. </p><table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Gumdrop Cookies</b><br />
2 cups oatmeal<br />
1 cup gumdrops, chopped small<br />
1 cup shredded coconut<br />
1 cup shortening<br />
1 cup brown sugar<br />
1 cup white sugar<br />
1 tsp baking powder<br />
¼ tsp baking soda<br />
½ tsp salt<br />
2 eggs<br />
1 tsp vanilla<br />
2 cups sifted flour<br />
<br />
Heat oven to 325°. Have greased cookie sheets ready.<br />
Mix the chopped gumdrops and oatmeal, breaking up all clumps of candy that stick together. Add the coconut (there's no need to mix it in) and set aside.<br />
Cream the shortening, sugars, baking powder, soda, and salt. Beat well. Add eggs one at a time, beating each in well before adding the next. Add the vanilla with one of the eggs. Then beat until light. Mix in the flour. When the dough is mixed, add oatmeal, gumdrops, and coconut.<br />
Roll into small balls, pressing them firmly into shape. Place onto the cookie sheet about 3 or 4 inches apart. Flatten each with a fork.<br />
Bake 10 minutes, or until lightly browned on the edges.<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
Source: anonymous recipe card
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>I was recently in a junk store (that's not derisive, they put the word JUNK in huge letters on the roof) because I love looking at the castoffs of consumerism. </p><p>I find it oddly fascinating to see outdated collectibles removed from their display cases and thrown into a bin with an insulting price tag. Sometimes one finds entire binders of baseball cards, carefully tucked into those plastic sleeves by various preteen boys in bygone days, now available for the price of a candy bar. Other times it's limited-edition Bicentennial china, removed from someone's glass-front display case and stacked like unwanted dinner plates at a thrift store. Recently, we saw Beanie Babies for $3.50 each, and thought the price was a bit steep. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQKq_Zhkgcdan7wUndgk9FphaUxO2qnlGuWJgFDGMgGxiW2nvZ-xo1OZNWIkgfyA5f4wuwHwp9FNVVt4Q8ScVoCLTVQinPqhIM8RGa3MLG60oacS_XasRo_vo-NJ8jzi5zqzU3_CrRjmPrZijN06f3e8UTMl9j6wy1s0DdlSZ5AGa0-h3UaKnkJrGpchFy/s2048/1696408492382%20(1).JPEG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQKq_Zhkgcdan7wUndgk9FphaUxO2qnlGuWJgFDGMgGxiW2nvZ-xo1OZNWIkgfyA5f4wuwHwp9FNVVt4Q8ScVoCLTVQinPqhIM8RGa3MLG60oacS_XasRo_vo-NJ8jzi5zqzU3_CrRjmPrZijN06f3e8UTMl9j6wy1s0DdlSZ5AGa0-h3UaKnkJrGpchFy/s320/1696408492382%20(1).JPEG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the perfectly intact, crease-free heart tags (some of which retain their aftermarket hard-plastic tag protectors). Keeping the tags intact was supposed to be crucial to preserving the Beanie Babies' value.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Junk stores are routinely full of "the plates that no one is allowed
to use," which is the natural progression after people's long-grown
children don't want the china that they were swatted away from all their
young lives. <br /><p></p><p>Christmas things inevitably take up a lot of shelf space in junk stores. It's hard to re-home one's surplus Christmas knickknacks. All of the would-be recipients already have several boxes of festive dust-collectors crammed into every spare corner of the house. All of this to say, I didn't want to pay for the novelty Christmas ornament cookie jar, but I thought the recipe that came with it looked neat.</p>
<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVIBUWdxGC4_u0rc_RRTzmsMvDNK8kHOoDcT-snOGRneEUeq-qmvLb6yMe4dst6ljNx4llbdytt6nPXZsSWdW3e6iVDWDFtiWijRKtRu6aZ8LJH0DSaXZ7z1pwxuM2e_KLAVqqy7RfgK502NwiHf71AwzHK3CYJ5evZtPfDuvsT7fG_ZLs5n84bn-2Q9u/s4096/IMG_20230813_125939088.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVIBUWdxGC4_u0rc_RRTzmsMvDNK8kHOoDcT-snOGRneEUeq-qmvLb6yMe4dst6ljNx4llbdytt6nPXZsSWdW3e6iVDWDFtiWijRKtRu6aZ8LJH0DSaXZ7z1pwxuM2e_KLAVqqy7RfgK502NwiHf71AwzHK3CYJ5evZtPfDuvsT7fG_ZLs5n84bn-2Q9u/s320/IMG_20230813_125939088.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've seen that big Santa Claus tray (rear right) in many people's houses.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was getting some annoyed looks from the store owners, who were mildly irked that I was photographing a lot of merchandise that I clearly had no intention of buying. However, I did get legible(ish) photograph of today's recipe. <br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQbb5uDHFZLeuERyZsgVijKxjwTBLQMO70QAgQoa0OXSu8GX_sckRt3Bx_cSkHj9pNJnIZLO1gczN1sVSA11Xzsg3cxQ_FpFvd7W9WrT_I0MgU6nx4aRLZjfGQ2ETsBMqaBjC68860GTZEEeu7pFIu7OEGKKxmO8VtZu1FEfk9aOKgPUDeWHeO0X-vNT4/s4096/IMG_20230813_125927876.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQbb5uDHFZLeuERyZsgVijKxjwTBLQMO70QAgQoa0OXSu8GX_sckRt3Bx_cSkHj9pNJnIZLO1gczN1sVSA11Xzsg3cxQ_FpFvd7W9WrT_I0MgU6nx4aRLZjfGQ2ETsBMqaBjC68860GTZEEeu7pFIu7OEGKKxmO8VtZu1FEfk9aOKgPUDeWHeO0X-vNT4/s320/IMG_20230813_125927876.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Gumdrops in cookies! It's hard for me to talk about gumdrop cookies without using the word "whimsical" in every sentence. Anyway, since I don't do Christmas unless strictly forced, I saw no point in waiting for the holiday to make these.
<p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrTiL2FIbyGQpyBoR3wMSEYWh8XTl4H95tAlbLNeee03Ji-Hpq7_zRk9tTxBeg2HzoC9wkhJShXIgHtXdUvDE9PwdkZIIy6CTvfBLvnkEyYm_kYYpSGFWJ0HDRt5Tfb93ibbmb0zu_KDZeCw5tFkTtstNjAqo2inQUPJ9F5lfTylrgRqwJMsKbPC_SFj17/s4096/IMG_20230915_010334944.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrTiL2FIbyGQpyBoR3wMSEYWh8XTl4H95tAlbLNeee03Ji-Hpq7_zRk9tTxBeg2HzoC9wkhJShXIgHtXdUvDE9PwdkZIIy6CTvfBLvnkEyYm_kYYpSGFWJ0HDRt5Tfb93ibbmb0zu_KDZeCw5tFkTtstNjAqo2inQUPJ9F5lfTylrgRqwJMsKbPC_SFj17/s320/IMG_20230915_010334944.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p> I've only ever gotten gumdrops while trick-or-treating. It never occurred to me that they exist in stores where I can buy them any time of year. I wasn't prepared for a better-than-fun-size box of them to be so cheap. <br /></p><p>That's not to say I don't like them. Gumdrops are one of my favorite Halloween candies, and I know I'm not alone. The last time some friends and I had a Halloween post-trick-or-treat candy trade, Dots were the most prized of treats. No one would part with their Dots for anything. <br /></p><p></p><p>I had to cut up the gumdrops in secret (or at least try to). But gumdrops are surprisingly fragrant when you cut them up, which betrayed my covert candy snipping. When word got out that gumdrops were in the kitchen, everyone wanted some. No amount of menacingly waving the scissors could keep all of the gumdrops for recipe use.</p><p>Gumdrops are also very sticky. I thought I could just jam the
scissors in there and have at them as if I was snipping fresh basil, but
they glued themselves to the blades. I ended up having to cut each
gumdrop one at a time, unsticking each individual piece of snipped candy as I went. The gumdrops also left a surprisingly stubborn residue on the scissors that would not come off until I swirled the blades in boiling water.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYRF-vw_-z8gPbS1_NVSyJAe4oDKVqHwVT0Z29RLT-yRViNd3_78sYIat8owHb_Lx_xGSQ1EGu9Gkdl5Vegx0yG8aoDFDK4aEWvp77-dFXLqooEgDyGL5Sm8OCGkVmQSBvHnIP_SRG6ZTXLv42Mo0kbb0gMnOUTC0v6pb0rFxFTiGIPWEkQ303IEZJ53r/s4096/IMG_20230915_011824371.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYRF-vw_-z8gPbS1_NVSyJAe4oDKVqHwVT0Z29RLT-yRViNd3_78sYIat8owHb_Lx_xGSQ1EGu9Gkdl5Vegx0yG8aoDFDK4aEWvp77-dFXLqooEgDyGL5Sm8OCGkVmQSBvHnIP_SRG6ZTXLv42Mo0kbb0gMnOUTC0v6pb0rFxFTiGIPWEkQ303IEZJ53r/s320/IMG_20230915_011824371.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>The whole time I was cutting up candies, I felt like I was borrowing someone else's family's Christmas tradition. I could imagine Ma (or Grandma) having all the wee ones cut up the gumdrops for the cookies (having plenty of extras on hand so the kids can eat a "few"). It's the high-fructose corn syrup equivalent of those rustic family afternoons where everyone chats in the shade while shelling nuts for peanut brittle.
</p><p>After we cut apart the gumdrops, all the pieces stuck to each other to make one big multicolored mass. I mixed them with the oats so that the oatmeal dust would coat them and make them come apart. Like breaking up a Christmas argument, this took longer than I thought.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwhqUHI2l_8VGFUyhtOfAoXMUIF1N8rFd-6g386yLdGPW2wRiumo51UBKKXqq7D2r4y7CjUr80aXU4sa1OmUC8Gr3gAVHAhFuzouSS6ZyRhUB9WvgkSlEDBEwniY7AmysaJcofBLoAmPyVszH32aEswKVcielicAJw22cqNs4rBxFvdLLXbIjW4fxQVob/s4096/IMG_20230915_012817319.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwhqUHI2l_8VGFUyhtOfAoXMUIF1N8rFd-6g386yLdGPW2wRiumo51UBKKXqq7D2r4y7CjUr80aXU4sa1OmUC8Gr3gAVHAhFuzouSS6ZyRhUB9WvgkSlEDBEwniY7AmysaJcofBLoAmPyVszH32aEswKVcielicAJw22cqNs4rBxFvdLLXbIjW4fxQVob/s320/IMG_20230915_012817319.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Having gotten the title ingredient ready to bake, we could make the rest of the recipe. At this point, it briefly looks like normal, candy-free cookie dough.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKtjQMTbjb_4CyZzeNQkNFYXN1--rTRltSN7NtHtr5ZiTH9shwZvvw6M_oIMuW8aT0y_7IbuGcWwg57p5PKbQ3JR9pcDeCyy8hCg7bleh17nC5g_ACCqg1sIHB9TfBp8L57kZlkDTGj_YlXjJZkC5UtOOZkjWAtcmAEq-Ew1I8e-ADU34ygIpjLeRMAJLK/s4096/IMG_20230915_014419690.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKtjQMTbjb_4CyZzeNQkNFYXN1--rTRltSN7NtHtr5ZiTH9shwZvvw6M_oIMuW8aT0y_7IbuGcWwg57p5PKbQ3JR9pcDeCyy8hCg7bleh17nC5g_ACCqg1sIHB9TfBp8L57kZlkDTGj_YlXjJZkC5UtOOZkjWAtcmAEq-Ew1I8e-ADU34ygIpjLeRMAJLK/s320/IMG_20230915_014419690.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We haven't seen shortening, oatmeal and coconut in a single cookie since the <a href="http://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2017/02/runny-er-bonnie-doon-oaties.html" target="_blank">Bonnie Doon Oaties</a>. For those who forgot how that recipe went, I substituted butter for shortening and the cookies turned into a hopeless runny mess. Therefore, I risked no such ingredient swaps today.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhED0BvrkUQIZZ0GVm0awvxGotXLy_kIO7FNBWhuwK0RTjLUxiiCIJ3X_CwPcRdvVjvMX5kAfJD6hWZKXZbK-S49tYrtW9khi6lJMdz6CvWAow4p75Yb6k6VfzDJuJpzI7Osqe5deMKl2Ew3eI4nu5ZodE7HO8wKMOQHF8Qa_MuKPmPTPrSeaUvVufF-N7f/s4096/IMG_20230915_014930288.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhED0BvrkUQIZZ0GVm0awvxGotXLy_kIO7FNBWhuwK0RTjLUxiiCIJ3X_CwPcRdvVjvMX5kAfJD6hWZKXZbK-S49tYrtW9khi6lJMdz6CvWAow4p75Yb6k6VfzDJuJpzI7Osqe5deMKl2Ew3eI4nu5ZodE7HO8wKMOQHF8Qa_MuKPmPTPrSeaUvVufF-N7f/s320/IMG_20230915_014930288.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>If you ignore the gumdrops, this is essentially a recipe for oatmeal cookies. And like all recipes for oatmeal cookies, the dough looked like a hopelessly small amount until we added the oatmeal. And then (as always happens with oatmeal cookies) after all was mixed, it looked like we would spend the whole night slowly getting batches in and out of the oven.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51xZFUAZqTwalLCi0_378l8lfR6B6OwlmaMZMATp2qhv0DIPmIJHUoC0XrTrtuZq8H5Guf0No5cDXLxw-FjJFj2oRl2ZAPSqFWQPlvQEvGfvHWZy-rvZaYM0Zck1pHNxCqsOL_B5c3WluZ3VR0Q92UC4TvC7ar3UdZgl7s4b7Dp3faip2gebkizUw7oVS/s4096/IMG_20230915_014953305.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51xZFUAZqTwalLCi0_378l8lfR6B6OwlmaMZMATp2qhv0DIPmIJHUoC0XrTrtuZq8H5Guf0No5cDXLxw-FjJFj2oRl2ZAPSqFWQPlvQEvGfvHWZy-rvZaYM0Zck1pHNxCqsOL_B5c3WluZ3VR0Q92UC4TvC7ar3UdZgl7s4b7Dp3faip2gebkizUw7oVS/s320/IMG_20230915_014953305.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />I didn't know what to expect of the gumdrops as they baked. Would they melt? Soften a bit in the oven but regain their firmness after cooling off? Would the gelatin (or whatever gum was used in these) be permanently deactivated in the heat, turning the gumdrops into multicolored spots of syrup? </p><p>It turns out that gumdrops are as oven-resistant as the pan the cookies sat on. They refused to slump in the heat. As the cookies spread, some of the gumdrops stayed up at a jaunty angle.
</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyOxnOeAjSfrDNo2D8lBXRR-Bd3Ey0T33ParK7c2no-EaXMgGiOS9T4RxrPJU3ORnv_qbAO9K6G2Ir3m011mgxWfvfSMwP8xaQsMJiNHef5-l5IEodpr1agt4dviJx_uCk-7Xlse11KLRCeVB-wfBdniJPNyH9NNhnArEb6lib3ICVjELNrZX80dod3jrt/s4096/IMG_20230915_022447178.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyOxnOeAjSfrDNo2D8lBXRR-Bd3Ey0T33ParK7c2no-EaXMgGiOS9T4RxrPJU3ORnv_qbAO9K6G2Ir3m011mgxWfvfSMwP8xaQsMJiNHef5-l5IEodpr1agt4dviJx_uCk-7Xlse11KLRCeVB-wfBdniJPNyH9NNhnArEb6lib3ICVjELNrZX80dod3jrt/s320/IMG_20230915_022447178.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As the first batch cooled and the second batch baked, we ran into one line of instruction that whoever wrote this omitted. When you're shaping your cookies into balls, you need to firmly press the dough instead of lightly rolling it. I was a lot gentler with the cookie dough for batch #2, and they were not nearly as nice-looking as the first ones.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4OgFcrEciTSsF5M5P-Y4OjxijO2h6CXLOWxNE1e1w8c5Z9z7Q1ZC1A5rbhLI7Mm2N-OWkJ1GKBK60UsA3YF8pdu0KEcjHfvDgYLXXggmVbFILPooCSEQfV5ZMOV0mksEkfaASnJuB-ns6D_4Vl-z35xDy2dfR0rQPdcHtrVwEwaB2nQC0g084kT-gMb6T/s4096/IMG_20230915_022802341.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4OgFcrEciTSsF5M5P-Y4OjxijO2h6CXLOWxNE1e1w8c5Z9z7Q1ZC1A5rbhLI7Mm2N-OWkJ1GKBK60UsA3YF8pdu0KEcjHfvDgYLXXggmVbFILPooCSEQfV5ZMOV0mksEkfaASnJuB-ns6D_4Vl-z35xDy2dfR0rQPdcHtrVwEwaB2nQC0g084kT-gMb6T/s320/IMG_20230915_022802341.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I should note that as charming as I thought these looked (well, the first batch anyway), others were less than impressed.
<p></p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38o33v6nG-e1MjkHJMtH53kO4HCiWrnoQyCyHdZQGKa0_VrmdN9XwDTqIN8sTO-_Y-DXTWrCWVqzpI7KbXAvnGVzGkyG1hhNur9ot2hppL7JZZxK0FDdYRboGqSratIqCXwWmzCaPLMLwTD1P3EZU4dmBo3tiiT-Bk39oZ_e2OXXli0eosfFLZqO6xnTg/s1148/well%20alright%20then.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1148" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38o33v6nG-e1MjkHJMtH53kO4HCiWrnoQyCyHdZQGKa0_VrmdN9XwDTqIN8sTO-_Y-DXTWrCWVqzpI7KbXAvnGVzGkyG1hhNur9ot2hppL7JZZxK0FDdYRboGqSratIqCXwWmzCaPLMLwTD1P3EZU4dmBo3tiiT-Bk39oZ_e2OXXli0eosfFLZqO6xnTg/s320/well%20alright%20then.png" width="201" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looks like <i>someone</i> just crossed himself off the Christmas cookie list.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I have to admit while I was excited to <i>make</i> the gumdrop cookies, I didn't have high hopes for eating them. I was expecting this to be one of those times when the title ingredient ruins the recipe (lest we forget the <a href="http://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2014/09/pepper-cake-weighs-lot.html" target="_blank">black pepper cake</a>). However, the gumdrops were really good in these cookies. </p><p>If you ignore the gumdrops, this is a very good oatmeal cookie recipe. However, when I proposed omitting the multicolored candies next time, I was immediately shouted down. "No! You don't get it! You HAVE to add the gumdrops! The recipe won't work without them!"
</p><p></p><p>I realize this is a culturally loaded comparison, but the cookies tasted like a good fruitcake. Or at least, they taste like what I imagine a good fruitcake to be. (I would wager that gumdrops are better than the cheap candied fruit that appears in most grocery stores during fruitcake season.) And the cookies are small enough to be satisfying but not overwhelming.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQP_RBKqEeKZyTi5PKQZz6c9YJyFTwUQlzjkUY6Gi-d1Jhdnt07L3Zb4K-S45eJcbEutG5uCox1yakCM_0EVzKoFP2rMSdy0FjP7t4bcAX4PyMYxl4RPLvNHjQVzVzYZp3HRWvru-Vpwv2-3O2T_CV1sCuxB_Wx5O9IE8HfbXrMIEVpAooAGdaQsWkBVC/s4096/IMG_20230915_023301960.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQP_RBKqEeKZyTi5PKQZz6c9YJyFTwUQlzjkUY6Gi-d1Jhdnt07L3Zb4K-S45eJcbEutG5uCox1yakCM_0EVzKoFP2rMSdy0FjP7t4bcAX4PyMYxl4RPLvNHjQVzVzYZp3HRWvru-Vpwv2-3O2T_CV1sCuxB_Wx5O9IE8HfbXrMIEVpAooAGdaQsWkBVC/s320/IMG_20230915_023301960.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />One person eyed the plate with annoyance that a box of gumdrops got scissored and ruined. He also had a lot of skepticism at the whole premise of the recipe. However, after a bit of badgering, he tried one. Then without realizing it, he ate half a dozen more and did an adorably inept job of pretending he hadn't.
<p></p><p>I tried to give some of the gumdrop cookies away. One person was going out visiting the next day, and I told him to take a heavily-loaded bag of cookies with him. However, the next day there were no cookies left for him to take. </p><p>I also promised we would make the cookies again.<br /></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-537612521320342122023-09-19T17:35:00.017-07:002023-10-04T08:35:33.934-07:00Rosemary Rolls: or, Presentation doesn't matter if people eat them in a few short minutes<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax0InujCP1Nir5CxwsqeIWerkzmL0rp6MHlnu19ThyCy7dLjy3YqNyeHKpW_9YkmDJ-1SHz9sOTK2K6F89Ov93LmIxbXpw7_vv-zLfINw4M36L1BHAQ7LlNRV-pES6gnpB2spOhVoF9p84BG5-vZIbDeaBqZjEbTgKtduWsaSvd1Irf9aN-HP4xglKokO/s320/IMG_20230212_013553018.jpg" style="display: none;" />
<p>Some recipes have more potential than their own writers would credit.</p>
<table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Rosemary Rolls</b><br />
1 c milk<br />
2 tbsp fresh rosemary, finely chopped<br />
½ scant tsp salt<br />
1½ tsp sugar<br />
1½ tsp lard (or shortening)<br />
1½ tsp butter<br />
1 egg, well beaten<br />
¼ cake compressed yeast*<br />
½ c tepid water<br />
About 3¼ cup flour, divided into 2½ cup and ¾ cup<br /><br />
<i> Topping:</i><br />
2 tbsp fresh rosemary, finely chopped<br />
¼ cup melted butter<br />
Salt to taste<br /><br />
Before making the dough, mix the topping ingredients. Then, let the topping sit out all day to infuse.<br /><br />
Add rosemary to the milk, then scald it (this draws out the rosemary's flavor better than simply mixing it in). Then stir in the salt, sugar, lard, and butter. When all is melted and dissolved, pour into a large bowl and set aside and cool until lukewarm. Dissolve the yeast in the tepid water, then beat it in along with the egg. Add enough flour to form a stiff batter (about 2½ cups), mix well. Then add enough flour to make a dough that is only <i>just</i> firm enough to knead, about ¾ cup.<br />
Cover the top of the bowl with a wet cloth and let rise overnight, or until it is bubbly and has at least doubled in height.<br />
In the morning, knead the dough well, lay it onto a well-floured surface, and sprinkle more flour on top so it can't stick to anything. Pat it out to somewhere between ½ and 1 inch thick (this dough is so soft that you really don't need a rolling pin). Then cut it into squares about 1½-2 inches on all sides- you don't need to be precise about this unless you want <i>exactly</i> uniform buns. Then roll each of these into a ball, pressing firmly with your hands as you roll them. <br />Let rise until doubled in size.<br />
When ready to bake, heat oven to 350°. <br />
Melt the topping if it has re-solidified and brush it over the rolls. Use <i>all</i> of the topping. If it seems to make puddles on the dough, they will become deliciously concentrated rosemary flavor after they're baked.<br />Bake for 35 minutes. These go stale quickly, so wrap any extras tightly. Or, cut them small and make croutons.<br /><br />
*or ¼ envelope dry yeast, or ½ tsp dry yeast.
<br /><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Adapted from</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/08/cinnamon-buns-or-these-are-not-what-you.html" target="_blank">"Efficient Housekeeping" By Laura A. Kirkman</a>, <i>Fort Worth </i>(Texas)<i> Star-Telegram</i> morning edition p. 10, November 24, 1921</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>We have made <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2022/08/cinnamon-buns-or-these-are-not-what-you.html" target="_blank">Laura Kirkman's cinnamon buns</a> many times since we first encountered the recipe, and every time people have absolutely loved them. I remain more than a bit surprised that non-dessert cinnamon rolls would be so popular. But oftentimes, people are more broad-minded than we expect, especially when bread is involved.
</p><p>When it came to Laura Kirkman's cinnamon buns, I couldn't help thinking how the bread itself was quite flavorful and delicious- even without the cinnamon on top and the raisins within. So, I wondered what else might be good with these buns. This brings us to our bounty of fresh rosemary.
</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXBlYCMkmMzcOuIvQAAC4QnxKUKuSJj9DMOihd7dzXtfFIbcJkdXEMQsKytkTQWxwdWuOTjy8dgCkRQi8838Kkb1EJFz8ZvjTIv6vvNLbtJmJGWbL_rqxoaLnKHmwrp4TX9Krgq4FI4_iNJP9lLzOVYfi_kPlZhzkt4BuQ3K9oTXlXM84ON6hvXka1r7n/s4096/IMG_20230211_140808907.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXBlYCMkmMzcOuIvQAAC4QnxKUKuSJj9DMOihd7dzXtfFIbcJkdXEMQsKytkTQWxwdWuOTjy8dgCkRQi8838Kkb1EJFz8ZvjTIv6vvNLbtJmJGWbL_rqxoaLnKHmwrp4TX9Krgq4FI4_iNJP9lLzOVYfi_kPlZhzkt4BuQ3K9oTXlXM84ON6hvXka1r7n/s320/IMG_20230211_140808907.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We have no working printer, so if I want a recipe typed I have to do it myself.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was going to write about how rosemary is such an easy plant to grow no matter how relentless is the summer. I was going to cheerfully say that if you put it outside, it practically cares for itself and thrives on getting sun-roasted. However, our rosemary struggled in the fiery summer heat, drooping despite our valiant efforts with a garden hose. Then winter came (or at least, the first round of winter) and finished off the plant. I looked up how to grow rosemary online, hoping the plant was more deciduous than I remembered. But Wikipedia dashed my hopes of plant dormancy by stating that rosemary "is an aromatic evergreen shrub." I then tried to convince myself that it would come back from the roots, but in the spring nothing came up but weeds.
<p></p><p>However, my sister-in-law had much better luck with hers, and cut off some branches of it for me.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPll29velI_X2cgquavfnZ-9nCVxKq9aBUTs1tHUSJ6EyY6cD5Qje71e3p7Mf12PfGIPZIUcfDeK1lFiBNI0z-DJg21C_jE1TdB1JHUtBwLcIiGD9-YYUcEq3jvBYqYT_HHAydI8EAT9CCxsBxrl7aGcxiIf9phAMzbOtr1WwlBjoilziSuMo-KRMpFbw/s4096/IMG_20230211_141417115.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPll29velI_X2cgquavfnZ-9nCVxKq9aBUTs1tHUSJ6EyY6cD5Qje71e3p7Mf12PfGIPZIUcfDeK1lFiBNI0z-DJg21C_jE1TdB1JHUtBwLcIiGD9-YYUcEq3jvBYqYT_HHAydI8EAT9CCxsBxrl7aGcxiIf9phAMzbOtr1WwlBjoilziSuMo-KRMpFbw/s320/IMG_20230211_141417115.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I first thought I would let the leaves remain whole, and that they would artistically intersperse the dough. However, it looked less like artisan craftsmanship and more like I threw a handful of grass clippings into the food. But that was an easy problem to solve. The blender made short work of long leaves. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9zlHe20H3I1XECsDjvTR9JG4cvay7XPVroy1vGEHBtb_v22irf92SFuvrzBwTGxk_8dU7WZ8Xnj8Sslg8xX13mMfiZtmSoowqlU74yn3NB7sVl4fwjqX34HrNcMZYIctZUJr92J4EGJu1CSj9YR-7Sw0hgS7v7qxiAtJHqUvZGenQvQNHxXZRcsLW3eq/s4096/IMG_20230211_141833499.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9zlHe20H3I1XECsDjvTR9JG4cvay7XPVroy1vGEHBtb_v22irf92SFuvrzBwTGxk_8dU7WZ8Xnj8Sslg8xX13mMfiZtmSoowqlU74yn3NB7sVl4fwjqX34HrNcMZYIctZUJr92J4EGJu1CSj9YR-7Sw0hgS7v7qxiAtJHqUvZGenQvQNHxXZRcsLW3eq/s320/IMG_20230211_141833499.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />This recipe is always easier than I think it's going to be. In nearly no time at all, our dough was ready to rise. Laura Kirkman tells us to leave the dough out all night (or in our case, all day). A lot of modern bakers use a similar technique of adding only the tiniest pinch of yeast to bread and letting it slowly rise all day. This gives the yeast more time to make all those delicious flavor compounds that make yeast bread so good. </p><p>But almost every recipe I've seen directs you to let the lightly-yeasted dough sit for a few hours and then add a whole packet of yeast later on. In other words, you make a delicious-smelling spongy substance, and after it's bubbling you just pretend you're making bread the normal way. Laura Kirkman doesn't have time for that business, and she decided that her readers didn't have time for that either. The bread may be an all-day affair, but we readers of "Efficient Housekeeping" can just drop a wet rag over the bowl and spend the entire long breadmaking time doing literally anything else.
</p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLIUnsebf4fM4DtPj6WnYe0ksuG4e0N6eb2-uHDmGUVNT4iHEzHLzP5MnFmK6o2botNCDYtwm8QzlAf8blWuAGO9sx7DYDOx9C4sTpUNzx7QxU7W8R36KHOPXWu93vq4a5IRTXmxV8_Sa7mLl280cHX3ujxg3pga4eyltghPCWywfG7rWeqAc3L7P49Jx/s3682/IMG_20230211_142505669.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2761" data-original-width="3682" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLIUnsebf4fM4DtPj6WnYe0ksuG4e0N6eb2-uHDmGUVNT4iHEzHLzP5MnFmK6o2botNCDYtwm8QzlAf8blWuAGO9sx7DYDOx9C4sTpUNzx7QxU7W8R36KHOPXWu93vq4a5IRTXmxV8_Sa7mLl280cHX3ujxg3pga4eyltghPCWywfG7rWeqAc3L7P49Jx/s320/IMG_20230211_142505669.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I decided to make the topping as soon as I had covered the dough for its day of leavening. That way, the butter could infuse with herbal oils the entire time the bread was sitting out. I resisted the temptation to complicate things with parmesan, garlic, or paprika. I wanted <i>nothing</i> to get in the way of the rosemary. There's no need to complicate beauty. Unfortunately, our rosemary butter looked like were about to make brownies with Satan's salad greens.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGWpFZ8iHlqQBnX5EQAj7ynI6TcC9JX_YD5oxB9mq3F_1hxiZgvadVOaDLtB0UddpKhr_TLO1pwt2QvxwPXC6q3BZgvpQcJhRRszertNUIjOQaa3fGpme4w6EFwBCJr27XqY7eLxLHtdE-BmWmmYRxE6yHKMmh7DlvYdb7Y3zvdWnhtKxh2B5PNWmjBBuh/s4096/IMG_20230211_143638777.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGWpFZ8iHlqQBnX5EQAj7ynI6TcC9JX_YD5oxB9mq3F_1hxiZgvadVOaDLtB0UddpKhr_TLO1pwt2QvxwPXC6q3BZgvpQcJhRRszertNUIjOQaa3fGpme4w6EFwBCJr27XqY7eLxLHtdE-BmWmmYRxE6yHKMmh7DlvYdb7Y3zvdWnhtKxh2B5PNWmjBBuh/s320/IMG_20230211_143638777.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />Every time people ask me if I can make special brownies (and that happens a lot), I tell them I will make the brownies if they supply the special. (So far, no one has.) But now I think I should recommend special rosemary rolls instead of special brownies. Not only are rosemary rolls less cliched, but they already look right for it. </p><p>The butter with a damp heap of ground rosemary looked so much like the beginnings of special brownies that I considered putting the rosemary and the butter in a hot frying pan. I am informed that a short time on a hot stove <i>really</i> draws out the, um, herbal flavor. But even before the butter had cooled enough to re-solidify, the rosemary had already dyed it a refreshing jade green. I promise we're not cooking with the groovy greens. It just looks like it.
</p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfyG4XgXAEj_JpWkjpYoiOE8UenJjyN-O-GZ8tquTLSrRqKtIebsw79gqfMBfKFjtT2n2d7YwUv78igGevMlPK7WG8uePnh2Rfdt4aqyt2qvEg9FVQ9e8VpD57N9eHPmz_QOZ--qLu6rFPmCALAxJTXqqQ_8wKgUccNDxlvEgzY1HsaQEPEPle3zjWHKI/s4096/IMG_20230212_005147094.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfyG4XgXAEj_JpWkjpYoiOE8UenJjyN-O-GZ8tquTLSrRqKtIebsw79gqfMBfKFjtT2n2d7YwUv78igGevMlPK7WG8uePnh2Rfdt4aqyt2qvEg9FVQ9e8VpD57N9eHPmz_QOZ--qLu6rFPmCALAxJTXqqQ_8wKgUccNDxlvEgzY1HsaQEPEPle3zjWHKI/s320/IMG_20230212_005147094.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />After sitting out all day while the dough rose, the butter was (depending on your perspective) either well-infused, or a suspicious shade of green. Every now and then, I picked up as I passed by so I could get a whiff of lovely rosemary. The butter had plenty of time to infuse since the dough was <i>extremely</i> slow to rise. I began to fear I had killed the yeast by putting it through a blender. But eventually, the dough got over whatever problem was bothering it and rose to life.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BQEeMrCDqZ3dPlitzAO2s74F0PSIl13o-RGHG1gIqU5zzkzkfhnHdiiPMGboMbka1KUfGNl10qO44TWBTV6qAEmFwuP4vDhEgnF9aSBz_pA5JTreqzJijANJUbKRTehFt4lftUZXOaVaPCzXJIBkH1ZyUVRHGZWcx7TJYGKiJ1o6GqTIN0UFrFSRsKEh/s4096/IMG_20230212_005129134.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BQEeMrCDqZ3dPlitzAO2s74F0PSIl13o-RGHG1gIqU5zzkzkfhnHdiiPMGboMbka1KUfGNl10qO44TWBTV6qAEmFwuP4vDhEgnF9aSBz_pA5JTreqzJijANJUbKRTehFt4lftUZXOaVaPCzXJIBkH1ZyUVRHGZWcx7TJYGKiJ1o6GqTIN0UFrFSRsKEh/s320/IMG_20230212_005129134.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I meant to serve these with dinner. We were eating thrilling leftovers that night, and it's nice to have something fresh alongside the fruits of the microwave. However, since the bread dough took so long to rise, we ended up having middle-of-the-night bread instead. And there is nothing wrong with that.
<p></p><p>Here you can see my big mistake: I quartered the recipe. This would prove regrettable as soon as the rolls were out of the oven and before they had a chance to cool off.
</p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjmDk1nDhZ2ecpeQYLv14_Un6AFg2rh-P0onlI5TLqtngyrQqNegCPifz6x85vGyULB5JQUz7w24Cz887O5pKXQQkWmC_G9nqP_5nCojnu04yhwVIVxiBxokRzUCECEMG73tilpi576UUuuc7ehmuAMnUWi4Zt7jZyFNbusF383rN2GbaO4m2MxpNfglE/s4096/IMG_20230212_005403795.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjmDk1nDhZ2ecpeQYLv14_Un6AFg2rh-P0onlI5TLqtngyrQqNegCPifz6x85vGyULB5JQUz7w24Cz887O5pKXQQkWmC_G9nqP_5nCojnu04yhwVIVxiBxokRzUCECEMG73tilpi576UUuuc7ehmuAMnUWi4Zt7jZyFNbusF383rN2GbaO4m2MxpNfglE/s320/IMG_20230212_005403795.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />Our rosemary rolls came out of the oven looking just as infused with illicit herbs as they did before they went in. I might add paprika to the topping next time just to make these look less like the product of some dispensary, but this time I didn't want to impede the flavor of rosemary. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZND518Ylgdn6pKE0gjHCCvapYjTJO_bIFkfbnbi5QrZ7rKvztDbbX74w6I8jXPKb0y2Dux7jKpxgO0r9qPe0qKmPWEKm2KGzR7FjHGlUQhU6omyUeA_Tp6r8fvRF6rN0baqZSAJMB5d-MEGQl9vlvkYbkjWC4P2wxRTRep1clCU6FJeVdocttHxLx7xf/s4096/IMG_20230212_013402841.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZND518Ylgdn6pKE0gjHCCvapYjTJO_bIFkfbnbi5QrZ7rKvztDbbX74w6I8jXPKb0y2Dux7jKpxgO0r9qPe0qKmPWEKm2KGzR7FjHGlUQhU6omyUeA_Tp6r8fvRF6rN0baqZSAJMB5d-MEGQl9vlvkYbkjWC4P2wxRTRep1clCU6FJeVdocttHxLx7xf/s320/IMG_20230212_013402841.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And gosh, did the rolls ever come out golden and beautiful on top! When you broke one open, it was so perfectly fluffy inside.
<p></p><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax0InujCP1Nir5CxwsqeIWerkzmL0rp6MHlnu19ThyCy7dLjy3YqNyeHKpW_9YkmDJ-1SHz9sOTK2K6F89Ov93LmIxbXpw7_vv-zLfINw4M36L1BHAQ7LlNRV-pES6gnpB2spOhVoF9p84BG5-vZIbDeaBqZjEbTgKtduWsaSvd1Irf9aN-HP4xglKokO/s4096/IMG_20230212_013553018.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax0InujCP1Nir5CxwsqeIWerkzmL0rp6MHlnu19ThyCy7dLjy3YqNyeHKpW_9YkmDJ-1SHz9sOTK2K6F89Ov93LmIxbXpw7_vv-zLfINw4M36L1BHAQ7LlNRV-pES6gnpB2spOhVoF9p84BG5-vZIbDeaBqZjEbTgKtduWsaSvd1Irf9aN-HP4xglKokO/s320/IMG_20230212_013553018.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I never bother writing about the underside of bread, but I have to note the fantastically buttery crispness underneath these. All of that rosemary butter seeped between the rolls and infused them with pure deliciousness as they baked.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWZksAmoGTAmovFRDFlnRr-kv4FyFYt8frBJkDEwIUF0nGVvXkdbJdoi1n7vOv_EoTTMsYBDMupnVBU-icp4LY4xZ5GgDt4QrdkG0esXZxd5C-w0_wJLs8NPD5qJzd-1lST3P0-kfjr4OmfvP_fQnKgGk3J-POMJKa-_H1jomiAzfIKXawX3LawCmieul/s4096/IMG_20230212_014057801.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWZksAmoGTAmovFRDFlnRr-kv4FyFYt8frBJkDEwIUF0nGVvXkdbJdoi1n7vOv_EoTTMsYBDMupnVBU-icp4LY4xZ5GgDt4QrdkG0esXZxd5C-w0_wJLs8NPD5qJzd-1lST3P0-kfjr4OmfvP_fQnKgGk3J-POMJKa-_H1jomiAzfIKXawX3LawCmieul/s320/IMG_20230212_014057801.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />However, because I am picky about what I make (particularly when deciding whether to make it again), I carefully tasted some bread from the middle so I could see if it's good without the rosemary butter, or if the herbed topping was like cream cheese icing making up for an underwhelming cake beneath it. The bread itself, completely unadorned, is absolutely wonderful. The rosemary made it so delicious that I was glad I avoided any other spices.
<p></p><p>But the biggest compliment came when I told everyone else that the bread was at last done. (I should not that due to my poor planning, the bread was ready six hours after the rest of supper had been cleared away.) I wandered away from the kitchen for a few minutes, and returned to find everyone else standing over a near-empty pan. The bread didn't even have time to get cold. "This is the best bread you ever made!" they said. "You should double it next time!" So great was the clamor over the bread that I had to promise to ask my sister-in-law for more rosemary branches for future culinary use.
</p><p>I am surprised that Laura Kirkman didn't recommend using herbs instead of cinnamon glaze as a suggested variation under the cinnamon bun recipe because it is <i>so good.</i> And if you plan ahead and make the dough the night before you want it, it's not a whole lot of work when you want to serve it. While you do need to let it rise for 8-10 hours, you can simply cover the bowl and forget about it all day. You don't even need to check on it occasionally throughout the day.
</p><p>I'm sure rosemary isn't the only herb that would be good here (and yes, the marijuana jokes keep setting themselves up). So feel free to use whatever herbs appeal to you when you're getting groceries- or whatever you have growing outside. You will be very glad you made these.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax0InujCP1Nir5CxwsqeIWerkzmL0rp6MHlnu19ThyCy7dLjy3YqNyeHKpW_9YkmDJ-1SHz9sOTK2K6F89Ov93LmIxbXpw7_vv-zLfINw4M36L1BHAQ7LlNRV-pES6gnpB2spOhVoF9p84BG5-vZIbDeaBqZjEbTgKtduWsaSvd1Irf9aN-HP4xglKokO/s320/IMG_20230212_013553018.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgax0InujCP1Nir5CxwsqeIWerkzmL0rp6MHlnu19ThyCy7dLjy3YqNyeHKpW_9YkmDJ-1SHz9sOTK2K6F89Ov93LmIxbXpw7_vv-zLfINw4M36L1BHAQ7LlNRV-pES6gnpB2spOhVoF9p84BG5-vZIbDeaBqZjEbTgKtduWsaSvd1Irf9aN-HP4xglKokO/s320/IMG_20230212_013553018.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7977529359956146477.post-58847856847487219762023-09-06T03:55:00.039-07:002023-09-19T17:30:19.901-07:00Pieathlon X: Glazed Peach Pie, or It's quite nice if you bake it twice
<p>The Pieathlon has returned! Yinzerella of <a href="https://dinnerisserved1972.com/" target="_blank">Dinner is Served 1972</a> asked if anyone wanted to do pies, and a lot of people rushed to answer Yes! This marks the tenth time various people from all over the planet have swapped pie recipes. Is it a tradition now? If it is, I hope we have an eleventh one next year.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ERkI2XLOBbTLQ0mP95_d6rcj_PEN4kxT2AA2gMaShFZT8lwGxxvCGQN7fLNUx_OEM1iNAmwaRdUkx7w0kFzB_uT357XjRm471ngsqXm6o6ZgshQw3L2zpgo5StKsAF1j-ty987kkcl9BdwSET7NV28iiLYgar-urvV8uPQ5IGUYLstCQ-hDgPe-NMjBw/s1078/IMG_6302.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1078" data-original-width="1078" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ERkI2XLOBbTLQ0mP95_d6rcj_PEN4kxT2AA2gMaShFZT8lwGxxvCGQN7fLNUx_OEM1iNAmwaRdUkx7w0kFzB_uT357XjRm471ngsqXm6o6ZgshQw3L2zpgo5StKsAF1j-ty987kkcl9BdwSET7NV28iiLYgar-urvV8uPQ5IGUYLstCQ-hDgPe-NMjBw/s320/IMG_6302.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Because I am an organized person, I thought it was one week later than today, so I held off on making the pie until a gathering with friends.... which will be next week. But by a stroke of recipe luck, we got a pie that could be microwaved into existence!<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdlN5Enc97xr4XoaD9XK2COyHRbHc2N_fQDcvsk2vY0kksx3Va95KPucLJ9yxeBySrzXVM4AwOiy3khIXBrWis8_u1K4fBRgXcEbODg8UliNRmiV3C8J2-YzsjJjVJajvcLxPG3KF5Qcx2IXKbxsGo9KYuYwgl1PK-8QaEK4SRBd4ZXIZSkgJz_z1diKXk/s1590/pie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="1590" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdlN5Enc97xr4XoaD9XK2COyHRbHc2N_fQDcvsk2vY0kksx3Va95KPucLJ9yxeBySrzXVM4AwOiy3khIXBrWis8_u1K4fBRgXcEbODg8UliNRmiV3C8J2-YzsjJjVJajvcLxPG3KF5Qcx2IXKbxsGo9KYuYwgl1PK-8QaEK4SRBd4ZXIZSkgJz_z1diKXk/s320/pie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><table border="1"><tbody><tr><td><b>Peach Glaze Pie</b><br /> <i>Crust:</i><br />
½ cup cooking oil<br />
2 tbsp milk<br />
1½ cups flour<br />
1 tsp salt<br />
2 tsp sugar<br /><br />
Heat oven to 400°.<br /> Combine dry ingredients in the measuring cup.<br />
Pour milk and oil into the pie pan. Add the dry ingredients. Mix with a fork (you may need to use your bare hands to get the last flour-lumps mixed in).<br />
Pick the dough up. Sprinkle and crumble it evenly over the bottom and sides of the pan. Pat it smooth.<br />
Bake for 10 minutes. While it's cooling, prepare the filling.<br /><br /> <i>Filling:</i><br />
1 cup sugar<br />
2 tbsp cornstarch<br />
1 cup water<br />
3 level tablespoons peach gelatin<br />
5 sliced peaches (or 16 oz frozen sliced peaches, defrosted)<br />
Whipped cream for serving, sweetened to taste<br />
<br />
In a 6-cup microwave-safe bowl or casserole, combine sugar and cornstarch. Stir in water. Cook for 2 minutes, then stir well. Cook another 1 or 2 minutes, until it is thick and clear. (Watch carefully, it will boil up quite suddenly when it's ready.)<br />
Remove from microwave and add the gelatin. Beat well to mix, and set aside to cool.<br />
Arrange the peach slices in the pan. Pour the cooled glaze on top. Refrigerate until glaze is set and firm. Serve with whipped cream.<br />
<br /><i>Suggested variations:</i> Fresh strawberries or raspberries may be used instead of peaches, with the matching flavor of gelatin in the glaze.<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Source: <i>Caloric ME Range Recipes,</i> unknown date (but it looks like the seventies)
</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXWU5N1qS-Ha1OV2nsB4uNtw8Cy9cDVxd-lY7KZtsrXfTpwrDK1VsGlV_LEjQxO_oe1R2ETQNHqTm9jWs2aMGSeRjG9MKw73hS-YpPsFgRvP4K_5Ukn05YjGcaI8xbv8Zl4ncsqt8IkmrOMA94K4fgwNLMfrQaGmWuYWybOdFNtgoOr1tVmVqSNqDJxbpE/s640/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXWU5N1qS-Ha1OV2nsB4uNtw8Cy9cDVxd-lY7KZtsrXfTpwrDK1VsGlV_LEjQxO_oe1R2ETQNHqTm9jWs2aMGSeRjG9MKw73hS-YpPsFgRvP4K_5Ukn05YjGcaI8xbv8Zl4ncsqt8IkmrOMA94K4fgwNLMfrQaGmWuYWybOdFNtgoOr1tVmVqSNqDJxbpE/s320/image.png" width="320" /></a></div><p><br />I don't think I've ever gotten a more perfect recipe for my needs. The one year I get the date of the Pieathlon wrong by a week, I got a microwave recipe. Could you ask for a better last-minute salvation? </p><p>This recipe comes to us from Surly of Vintage Recipe Cards, who we can blame for the <a href="http://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2016/06/guess-what-today-is-i-was-really.html" target="_blank">Weight Watchers chocolate "pie"</a> that turned an odd yet lovely shade of purple. This year, she was suspiciously nice and sent in glazed fruit. <!--I also sent in a fruit pie recipe, but it was of a very peculiar kind. ______ (we'll find out who later today) got to make a banana cream pie from the <i>Woman's Club of Fort Worth Cook Book. </i>Apparently in 1928, they had a very peculiar definition of "banana cream pie" because it has neither bananas nor a cream filling. I'm very excited to see what (s)he made.--></p>
<p>Our recipe comes to us from the Caloric ME recipe card set. For those wondering why the heck someone would use the name "Caloric ME" for a box of recipe cards, Caloric was a stove manufacturer. The Caloric ME (ME stands for Microwave Energized) was a combination microwave and oven. Check out how modern it looks with its push-button controls and light-up indicators! </p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIngN3aTTWsE42mBqmEwgKyiHySZnCcssr33nWsP--QOth3tknRYS4IPKsd7ajIJRt3YUv4t6iDj5UtdQmVZddSRMwNxp8jgnBUitxfLPtfb_53j97vjdgTNbps_znuogqI6nmdnnSTF0O8B_PZTJQQHqD1S_mdlQv4eT0V9of2zjUxiP-tu51KY1Aa3He/s960/116016109_2957930834336083_8992036079740533016_n.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIngN3aTTWsE42mBqmEwgKyiHySZnCcssr33nWsP--QOth3tknRYS4IPKsd7ajIJRt3YUv4t6iDj5UtdQmVZddSRMwNxp8jgnBUitxfLPtfb_53j97vjdgTNbps_znuogqI6nmdnnSTF0O8B_PZTJQQHqD1S_mdlQv4eT0V9of2zjUxiP-tu51KY1Aa3He/s320/116016109_2957930834336083_8992036079740533016_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWPKUPLtT9VjDFQMJgQ2F3bMiOOMgo52zdmRgpmJP3ElayDbHrlbQ6VYEcJyWJ7n2oXMaUTPQIR4gJqN4Bf21DX9j_SswGFQyEcke37sNbXNiXC8Gk-3kMvdndr2H2-gy8b7irV_5WnKl4xs4T3hB0HxTd633ycbBWkXv_xsyhQj0U2bI6myYIF4mvBEu/s960/116797201_2957930801002753_1938784611852016988_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWPKUPLtT9VjDFQMJgQ2F3bMiOOMgo52zdmRgpmJP3ElayDbHrlbQ6VYEcJyWJ7n2oXMaUTPQIR4gJqN4Bf21DX9j_SswGFQyEcke37sNbXNiXC8Gk-3kMvdndr2H2-gy8b7irV_5WnKl4xs4T3hB0HxTd633ycbBWkXv_xsyhQj0U2bI6myYIF4mvBEu/s320/116797201_2957930801002753_1938784611852016988_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p>You could either use it like an ordinary "conventional oven," or you could bake things with the microwave running at the same time to speed things along, or you could turn off the heating coils and use it to microwave last night's leftovers. (It would take me a long time to get used to putting a paper plate of cold casserole into the oven, but apparently that was an option if you bought a Caloric ME.) </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS8225fhPto0seZunS0TFrc5rFXIU8hoz7h0o0cLPOUOyurbc4aikLuvdnuw2mdHPPAd-BaEr4_gj1feBhKg5Jg7p2fwwj9MTfU1IcIyUYqVyygw0s_7ALeOoD4v-s0brgaNSRCIrqtrncwX9-eQfwQkgjjqFXKKba7nheJrQglnu3BtlDCr0rWUJ9K-Nk/s960/116904015_2957930884336078_1155773661059441313_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS8225fhPto0seZunS0TFrc5rFXIU8hoz7h0o0cLPOUOyurbc4aikLuvdnuw2mdHPPAd-BaEr4_gj1feBhKg5Jg7p2fwwj9MTfU1IcIyUYqVyygw0s_7ALeOoD4v-s0brgaNSRCIrqtrncwX9-eQfwQkgjjqFXKKba7nheJrQglnu3BtlDCr0rWUJ9K-Nk/s320/116904015_2957930884336078_1155773661059441313_n.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going by the look of this thing, it's from the mid-to-late seventies or the <i>very</i> early eighties.</td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p>Let's get to the recipe itself. I shivered and shuddered when I saw that we got a recipe from a 1970s microwave recipe set. These were the days when microwave manufacturers <i>really</i> tried to convince people that you could do everything from seared fish to crème brûlée with a microwave. For a recipe out a 1970s advertising handout, our pie looks perfectly innocent, doesn't it? </p><p>It reminded me of the <a href="http://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2015/06/pieathlon-second-or-what-is-rhubarb.html" target="_blank">Fresh Strawberry Glace Pie</a> from a previous Pieathlon- except this time we're using artificially flavored Jello in the glaze. I didn't see a booby trap ingredient in this that would ruin it all, but remained wary that it would turn out terrible anyway.
</p><p>To my surprise, the most frustrating ingredient to get ahold of was the title ingredient. You wouldn't think peaches would be a problem to get, but right now the ones in the supermarket are near useless. Before paying retail for fresh fruit, I smelled them. As most of us know, if the peaches smell like peaches, they will be delicious. If they smell like nothing, they will taste like Styrofoam. And indeed, the peaches smelled like someone burned a peach-scented candle near them before the supermarket opened for the day.<br /></p><p>In a previous era, I may have thought nothing of buying out-of-season fruit that tasted like upholstery, but we are still stuck with post-pandemic grocery prices. Fortunately, the recipe offers an alternative: frozen peaches! This also meant I didn't have to peel or slice them myself. When they thawed, the frozen peaches tasted, well, peachy.</p><p>But we'll get to the peaches later. This recipe comes with its own crust recipe, so we couldn't simply put beef fat and flour into a food processor as we so often do these days. The Caloric ME pie uses cooking oil. You may not believe this, but I had to purchase oil specifically for today's pie. </p><p>We don't actually keep cooking oil on hand around here. One person swears that olive oil is better whenever we put raw ingredients into a hot frying pan, so a bottle of that lives in the pantry- next to the shortening (every time I think I've bought my last can, we run into another recipe that demands it). We also have butter and margarine in the refrigerator, and an <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/search/label/beef%20fat" target="_blank">embarrassing surplus of beef fat</a> in the freezer. Given this bounty of fat, I haven't felt the need to get a bottle of plain cooking oil until now.
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1PpOLQ3jnYD2Rvv5LZCDdfHR-SgZiU4cpqQiH1DwJSYDvQ5lbbhiGo-ts0_r_8x2PmXkChZqAoC_sNV9Sxh9UE_IKOgJMZK77M7ZSOW9fZrB-lVIweORgK8m_oK442TyX9Y8nWtZDFdfeo0kflc0DbggI4BE0MAhe2ezUektWzI6yJwPWSsLFIIiLa5Gz/s4096/IMG_20230905_184449809.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1PpOLQ3jnYD2Rvv5LZCDdfHR-SgZiU4cpqQiH1DwJSYDvQ5lbbhiGo-ts0_r_8x2PmXkChZqAoC_sNV9Sxh9UE_IKOgJMZK77M7ZSOW9fZrB-lVIweORgK8m_oK442TyX9Y8nWtZDFdfeo0kflc0DbggI4BE0MAhe2ezUektWzI6yJwPWSsLFIIiLa5Gz/s320/IMG_20230905_184449809.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I have to give the writers of the Caloric ME recipe cards credit for having us mix the pie crust in the pan. I appreciate anything that reduces the pile of dirty dishes. You'd think someone who could afford a microwave-augmented oven in the 1980s could also afford a dishwasher- heck, they're still prohibitively extravagant today. But I guess the recipe writers wanted to emphasize how <i>easy</i> cooking can be with a Caloric ME. You're not going to convince anyone that pies are a breeze if they still have to do all that tedious business with a rolling pin.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwapsJmeP68Lr7RCXBA91m0QDIUSpBHejsm4aOufcQo3kKoXtBy4Aw0NxFaQNDxD6x9-WcAnnnh3S6BOOUpVDMPqIvyG-9CFj1EgZ67v5h7vsBf-ETGBEMzkQb570zGMC-sJp9wpjVdsRapTvLOXouvAvGN9wRRN6nedvUYC862Tmxf4iF1jT4FLusJ30/s4096/IMG_20230905_184558198.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwapsJmeP68Lr7RCXBA91m0QDIUSpBHejsm4aOufcQo3kKoXtBy4Aw0NxFaQNDxD6x9-WcAnnnh3S6BOOUpVDMPqIvyG-9CFj1EgZ67v5h7vsBf-ETGBEMzkQb570zGMC-sJp9wpjVdsRapTvLOXouvAvGN9wRRN6nedvUYC862Tmxf4iF1jT4FLusJ30/s320/IMG_20230905_184558198.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I've never been particularly convinced by a recipe that tells me to "mix with a fork." That never works. It always seems that the ingredients get<i> nearly</i> mixed, but never completely combine no matter how hard you try. I don't understand why any recipe writers tell people to do it. Using a spoon isn't harder. <p></p><p>As I expected, using a fork got the dough <i>almost</i> mixed, though there were still little tiny lumps of dry flour in it.
</p><p>After tossing the fork into the sink and getting into the dough with my hands, it was perfectly mixed. I have never made a pie crust with cooking oil before, and was surprised at how well the dough handled. But I must note that whenever I handled the dough, it left a shiny coat of grease on my hands.
</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmt73eYCiEgRFAO8Gk73aIfi4ikHYN4DUp_HMhEwP542clXQ8PMQ8QuvxvlNRsICm-BIioXkWOEJLfuiZHQQGoNuWyUaPNpqo94Gp8lC0gSHhxj3UkQc7mDPgbhpk_h15bRJFJXER7Y2HNymfDDBMZacNSSMnLZLvjlYvZiVZ1kMElrAlzzByuy6NgbnC8/s4096/IMG_20230905_184700649.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmt73eYCiEgRFAO8Gk73aIfi4ikHYN4DUp_HMhEwP542clXQ8PMQ8QuvxvlNRsICm-BIioXkWOEJLfuiZHQQGoNuWyUaPNpqo94Gp8lC0gSHhxj3UkQc7mDPgbhpk_h15bRJFJXER7Y2HNymfDDBMZacNSSMnLZLvjlYvZiVZ1kMElrAlzzByuy6NgbnC8/s320/IMG_20230905_184700649.jpg" width="320" /></a> </p><p>I have to say that while patting the crust into the pan doesn't look as good as rolling it out, I loved how easy it was. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUVcntEkanRvK5QFmN8nfz7dmBr5CZN-vQFb5nvyfsfg42HbuJXZMiiEVjlYnDpbbPdFtqTc6hMN3OkjfnpLF5ugo5MM1A0o5Mj2KjV12UI1bLisigNS8RUEnrdmpRHbjkeIIUWfJitw-uL5fp_bBYxDw4ugICOIYSr2G7uk0wAm7AlSrqqI5t6NCCAI6k/s4096/IMG_20230905_184842587.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUVcntEkanRvK5QFmN8nfz7dmBr5CZN-vQFb5nvyfsfg42HbuJXZMiiEVjlYnDpbbPdFtqTc6hMN3OkjfnpLF5ugo5MM1A0o5Mj2KjV12UI1bLisigNS8RUEnrdmpRHbjkeIIUWfJitw-uL5fp_bBYxDw4ugICOIYSr2G7uk0wAm7AlSrqqI5t6NCCAI6k/s320/IMG_20230905_184842587.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As so often happens, I used a pie pan that's the wrong size. I rarely use the same pie pan twice, but it seems I can never get my hands on a pan that's the correct size for the recipe. (If you're wondering, I don't throw pans away. But whenever someone takes a pie to a family gathering, we generally leave it in its pan for whoever wants the leftovers. We then take the nearest available one home. Everyone leaves with the same number of baking dishes as they brought, often with the delicious leftovers of someone's cooking still in them. I don't know who originally bought this pan, but it may have passed through all of my aunts' houses.)
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik27f--AA-7R2qyM_iuSXmuLsbbMNa9TwR9SinJR5jBOy_aGAYpO8FZb43u9LIwJMuXx2_8XDpWKTxn8E1ExPhnc_xUJhd0ozUSZlqLb3yV1pituoD96nN-tAKeyhw-fPqSkky861EtMOOgLF6MXsAPB9CzBuGnX5N05WAgURxyHk4jvJ_HkLwZDy5dtj7/s4096/IMG_20230905_185037984.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik27f--AA-7R2qyM_iuSXmuLsbbMNa9TwR9SinJR5jBOy_aGAYpO8FZb43u9LIwJMuXx2_8XDpWKTxn8E1ExPhnc_xUJhd0ozUSZlqLb3yV1pituoD96nN-tAKeyhw-fPqSkky861EtMOOgLF6MXsAPB9CzBuGnX5N05WAgURxyHk4jvJ_HkLwZDy5dtj7/s320/IMG_20230905_185037984.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As easy as this crust was, whoever wrote "Flute edges." at the end of step 3 was hallucinating. This dough was too crumbly. It only held its place when firmly pressed against the pan. I did my best to tidy things up with a bit of trimming, but my best wasn't very good.<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixrL0Rntewbugb4azBimC44JfMQ7t_9hmcTtuYodRDEfR9pRqpgT2HKZEKqF2c0-4hFB4dbVol8OVR7kdP3_3RUHa-hCBYkVlfLAyOVI5wKvIvIYsCchwttJs0Goj0Qae7OuBhr9dbLKJQYawXiSbRcqgs6jDfIcLP7jeOFz3xnsdIZay8LT4Ac_R4Pkgp/s4096/IMG_20230905_185052633.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixrL0Rntewbugb4azBimC44JfMQ7t_9hmcTtuYodRDEfR9pRqpgT2HKZEKqF2c0-4hFB4dbVol8OVR7kdP3_3RUHa-hCBYkVlfLAyOVI5wKvIvIYsCchwttJs0Goj0Qae7OuBhr9dbLKJQYawXiSbRcqgs6jDfIcLP7jeOFz3xnsdIZay8LT4Ac_R4Pkgp/s320/IMG_20230905_185052633.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As the pie crust baked, the hot oil made the kitchen smell exactly like I was making popcorn on the stove.
<p></p><p>Setting aside the crust, it's time for the microwaved glaze. The recipe looks like a variation of that translucent lemon filling that people often put between cake layers. I've never done it in the microwave before, but it seemed like it should work just fine. For the record, this filling uses equal amounts of water and sugar. The sugar sludge at the bottom reminded me of the delicious residue that's left at the bottom of a cereal bowl if you dump a mountain of sugar on top before eating it.
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0KGWUwWBip4PD2LDz_ueqR-fS5YY9fqMD7xcSqGko8PS-maKsgomous1sAw2I67Oa4OgQbDWlsvO0yzDOIkYNuiJIOE3ezSWIqG0ficuAD1RhoUhn7dDa-6_w8QlHz_Jlo1gnEG6EUS3Al7dfMZ53aW16AOOhPdujbtTH4zWPzAxqx8vVpN4NwT1Cwez/s4096/IMG_20230905_210621643.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0KGWUwWBip4PD2LDz_ueqR-fS5YY9fqMD7xcSqGko8PS-maKsgomous1sAw2I67Oa4OgQbDWlsvO0yzDOIkYNuiJIOE3ezSWIqG0ficuAD1RhoUhn7dDa-6_w8QlHz_Jlo1gnEG6EUS3Al7dfMZ53aW16AOOhPdujbtTH4zWPzAxqx8vVpN4NwT1Cwez/s320/IMG_20230905_210621643.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>After microwaving it, the mixture turned translucent as promised. A lot of people talk about how microwaves from the 1980s were super weak compared to the ones we buy today, but apparently a Caloric ME had about the same wattage as the microwave currently in our kitchen. The cooking times in our microwave lined up with the ones on the recipe card. </p><p>You should also know that this stuff boils up very suddenly. Like, one moment it looks like nothing's happening, but only five seconds later it's threatening to overtop the bowl and make a mess of your Caloric ME. (But don't worry, apparently they were self-cleaning!)
</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQKYBX4lukd8AUvlmMdImCaUGNA5rPEr9jrdwuO9HU8CXjRNbeGbPPoDVPrWDp6ICWLgK-LpsV7NfByY96rztgrctGhcUBxh5DNLg_3bRpOwmPah56fQ3W_M3aRGLCcv_cW10QvgM_cMwtQoH6Ucc_Ul0MKvrJAXYnEpSMhEKeI9nxncWPgT6DiYnnJ_r/s4096/IMG_20230905_211054150.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQKYBX4lukd8AUvlmMdImCaUGNA5rPEr9jrdwuO9HU8CXjRNbeGbPPoDVPrWDp6ICWLgK-LpsV7NfByY96rztgrctGhcUBxh5DNLg_3bRpOwmPah56fQ3W_M3aRGLCcv_cW10QvgM_cMwtQoH6Ucc_Ul0MKvrJAXYnEpSMhEKeI9nxncWPgT6DiYnnJ_r/s320/IMG_20230905_211054150.jpg" width="320" /></a> </p><p>The steaming translucent mixture smelled oddly musty, like I had somehow managed to leave it in the back of the cabinet for two or three years without it rotting. But I hoped that the peach gelatin would cover up any unfortunate aftertaste. After adding the Jello, our glaze turned a very pretty rose color.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGk7nChJlfmO5FDel0ATmavNsTlO6E3s37aKNP7W7-qOwzrtlrtfNbY25MTLEtrads-j9D3rPskcZb0i6oA3EKigIIFALzKStPGHKSbJb8yiiC0rhhy_WcGLA7vYjR44hh02uiJSsXpXv0PBQhhKOUwduuohYw6pXKQ_L7AfYsPp8aXrZpgZDWhcs-TDi/s4096/IMG_20230905_211243187.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGk7nChJlfmO5FDel0ATmavNsTlO6E3s37aKNP7W7-qOwzrtlrtfNbY25MTLEtrads-j9D3rPskcZb0i6oA3EKigIIFALzKStPGHKSbJb8yiiC0rhhy_WcGLA7vYjR44hh02uiJSsXpXv0PBQhhKOUwduuohYw6pXKQ_L7AfYsPp8aXrZpgZDWhcs-TDi/s320/IMG_20230905_211243187.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The resulting glaze tasted oddly familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. Then I finally recognized it: this glaze tasted exactly like Big Peach soda! I used to have a minor obsession with this stuff because it's so elusive. And doesn't <i>peach</i> flavored soda sound so charmingly wacky?<br /><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAm6hB6AaDaVq4lc72DrEItNoA4Cy9gIVVsk4MOJirengXRRku4oUjRd-DKNZVOSwXalZJpH2vw83TKFu8RSix3sqlZ4X9eDb1B6spfhnT_MEqCxcaff1PqLpEAFIGndctKm6dP3iqxoQW1l-qEi5IxjNDFVZewASc8GRUAYpZvR6_ChBXQTJBcBjHDox0/s997/Big_Peach_2L.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="997" data-original-width="503" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAm6hB6AaDaVq4lc72DrEItNoA4Cy9gIVVsk4MOJirengXRRku4oUjRd-DKNZVOSwXalZJpH2vw83TKFu8RSix3sqlZ4X9eDb1B6spfhnT_MEqCxcaff1PqLpEAFIGndctKm6dP3iqxoQW1l-qEi5IxjNDFVZewASc8GRUAYpZvR6_ChBXQTJBcBjHDox0/s320/Big_Peach_2L.jpg" width="161" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Red_(soft_drink)#/media/File:Big_Peach_2L.jpg" target="_blank">Wikimedia</a> (author: Scoty6776)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />Well, we set the glaze aside to cool. But purely for the heck of it, I decided to try the raspberry variant of this pie. For some reason, I thought raspberries would be a lot better than peaches, so I splurged on the extra fruit. (Also I found a few tiny pie pans and wanted an excuse to use one.)</p><p>Everything about this pie scales down easily, so it was quite simple to make a small raspberry tart. The glaze was not only the same lurid red as cheap Kool-Aid, it tasted just like when I used to make it with only half the water on the directions so it was extra concentrated and almost syrupy.
</p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmyBdt91-r0MnRNv1uuwuKKcAIJo_FvZBRx7roMJTnMpNgRwJialEAauPMwql5MN6JxgVshxwS6GE5IgPCQCJnqKsmquM21wqhLgs8GvDsq5l_l6IA4bhzQKxFJb2n3v0mqSgLNT4EVNsY55sbsRk0sqVBkJDIdsUz6K6cUmFt61nnGdqYFoni6TUxzEfC/s4096/IMG_20230905_212557312.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2728" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmyBdt91-r0MnRNv1uuwuKKcAIJo_FvZBRx7roMJTnMpNgRwJialEAauPMwql5MN6JxgVshxwS6GE5IgPCQCJnqKsmquM21wqhLgs8GvDsq5l_l6IA4bhzQKxFJb2n3v0mqSgLNT4EVNsY55sbsRk0sqVBkJDIdsUz6K6cUmFt61nnGdqYFoni6TUxzEfC/s320/IMG_20230905_212557312.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Anyway, we spooned the glaze over the raspberries and most of it sank to the bottom, leaving only a light drizzle on top.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3B1v3ctqpbzcDM0a0wFtB3pcjBHEb-0RQINuEDvVMOvu7yqzXiUpTNoP5gj4bOkaqR8lMazzO3N6c7mxQhL-Mc-1f0heoP90BoIh0AziN4nxGfvqIgLnX8YX-lFu4SE0QvZYcIPnYUNe9fZDJW1J7dTNNbQYOEUmGuYG36TRL-KMlMsVuO3dWlrrQHE3/s4096/IMG_20230905_213956664.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3B1v3ctqpbzcDM0a0wFtB3pcjBHEb-0RQINuEDvVMOvu7yqzXiUpTNoP5gj4bOkaqR8lMazzO3N6c7mxQhL-Mc-1f0heoP90BoIh0AziN4nxGfvqIgLnX8YX-lFu4SE0QvZYcIPnYUNe9fZDJW1J7dTNNbQYOEUmGuYG36TRL-KMlMsVuO3dWlrrQHE3/s320/IMG_20230905_213956664.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />With that in mind, I brushed the peaches with glaze to ensure they were thoroughly and attractively coated before pouring the rest in. I figured this is supposed to be one of those shellacked-looking fruit pies that seem to be on half the cookbook covers from the 1970s. But when I poured the rest of the glaze in, our peaches drowned.
<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_34BGgzTtcuw9fndMZ0v46oGJm5mWUwEOX_iVYB3iepge7Ulm-TYQqP_D82tsgar3LJNZ999NCcAjZ6mnKCRbDyd95RKRQt0mInrsVfMVBNl-oGGEjjXEC5QjDrfInau8f1DHHVFk2x3VC-Nxg7aUhpLxREwY17Wvka937T0zoySPw5xCwgLLZjIsb87/s4096/IMG_20230905_230252402.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_34BGgzTtcuw9fndMZ0v46oGJm5mWUwEOX_iVYB3iepge7Ulm-TYQqP_D82tsgar3LJNZ999NCcAjZ6mnKCRbDyd95RKRQt0mInrsVfMVBNl-oGGEjjXEC5QjDrfInau8f1DHHVFk2x3VC-Nxg7aUhpLxREwY17Wvka937T0zoySPw5xCwgLLZjIsb87/s320/IMG_20230905_230252402.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here I thought they loved weird lighting in 1970s food photography. Turns out, food really did look like that.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>I'm glad we didn't get a picture with the recipe to show me how badly I failed.<br /></p><p>I wasn't sure if I was supposed to refrigerate these pies to set the gelatin in the glaze, or if it didn't contain enough gelatin for that. But I figured the pies would be far better cold anyway. Therefore, into the refrigerator they went.
</p><p>After I could wait any longer, it was pie time! </p><p>The raspberry one was a bust. The crust disintegrated and tasted awful. The berries were perfectly fine since it's hard to ruin fruit in syrup. I ended up scooping out the berries and throwing out the crust. Even years of conditioning to "clean your plate" didn't stop me from letting it hit the trash. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_EbnH8z9fCZqFE8GnFPMCVa2u1vMWXhcV7exshJjTG4vDh5j0ppNCJmljatD7udJLpUhJf8Ej9lLz0YTwtwnXy_AqliCyEpCAaUnhPx0KKCfuWSiEh2oH0pUhkrPwhCd2iGeCf4wB34x3sVwQiZS6396j9XQjYvQ9PeomH4AIja_rnBmCts_pN0McRms/s4096/IMG_20230906_004723986.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_EbnH8z9fCZqFE8GnFPMCVa2u1vMWXhcV7exshJjTG4vDh5j0ppNCJmljatD7udJLpUhJf8Ej9lLz0YTwtwnXy_AqliCyEpCAaUnhPx0KKCfuWSiEh2oH0pUhkrPwhCd2iGeCf4wB34x3sVwQiZS6396j9XQjYvQ9PeomH4AIja_rnBmCts_pN0McRms/s320/IMG_20230906_004723986.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />However, the glazed raspberries went to a different (and delicious) use:
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSwaPvXLLG3Bmcb3y7kTvCk-W9I1nTzEt9mC3f0Rsx07v-_HrV-JYwl23oitW5v0xKYvP6xcvjl0Zj1NDFf1LNP8qFg6C2GCQaZFAjOLnbDt_jqYem3CcoD0sOThJ3HiIM-x4XMlkj8xVjoLx6u16ehW6hMB88Th1svzSrpuowmrV9f8rsh0y8i2m8WF7/s4096/IMG_20230906_005227270.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSwaPvXLLG3Bmcb3y7kTvCk-W9I1nTzEt9mC3f0Rsx07v-_HrV-JYwl23oitW5v0xKYvP6xcvjl0Zj1NDFf1LNP8qFg6C2GCQaZFAjOLnbDt_jqYem3CcoD0sOThJ3HiIM-x4XMlkj8xVjoLx6u16ehW6hMB88Th1svzSrpuowmrV9f8rsh0y8i2m8WF7/s320/IMG_20230906_005227270.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>As for the peach pie, we found that it gelatinized in the refrigerator. Check out the sharp corners in the sauce when we cut it. Had we lined the pan with lettuce leaves instead of a pie crust, we could have called this a salad.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKKjC5o9OlLjc18EtgjwJMKMN11ym7eq34i5MqEeUoLfWCPVWQSXoNfEXzG4ELvoXvS7aGkP9LctqpWmIuwbN4rX3oBumgBKqpnR_yJDGogYhQILJ7AafHAGIw1zHPJ_yFR5jO4g7XzWMVYLbwweOxu73ie9Wuu7fV3hZAja-WuHFboe87-bRUOGMrI3uc/s4096/IMG_20230906_005804485.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKKjC5o9OlLjc18EtgjwJMKMN11ym7eq34i5MqEeUoLfWCPVWQSXoNfEXzG4ELvoXvS7aGkP9LctqpWmIuwbN4rX3oBumgBKqpnR_yJDGogYhQILJ7AafHAGIw1zHPJ_yFR5jO4g7XzWMVYLbwweOxu73ie9Wuu7fV3hZAja-WuHFboe87-bRUOGMrI3uc/s320/IMG_20230906_005804485.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />When we got a slice onto our plate, a peach slid off, leaving a fruit-shaped cavity in the firmly set sauce.<br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ig-Wtc8pVs7sc_GNUnmPmep1S3SXHWuEEsjUVyjEU14iWcgxnb6cMC7XEIPu89dMbnaesYyaIrcIBYRtQZ0hYxEiDNXPdatuaCceq__gSrtQfT0SnUyTRCE3jNg0feBOy8MfUNWx6QSiJfwuBZC7VB92m_2FPU6dKN6o4Zbyebc7Z0Xm0hSBEOhMan_y/s4096/IMG_20230906_005930225.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ig-Wtc8pVs7sc_GNUnmPmep1S3SXHWuEEsjUVyjEU14iWcgxnb6cMC7XEIPu89dMbnaesYyaIrcIBYRtQZ0hYxEiDNXPdatuaCceq__gSrtQfT0SnUyTRCE3jNg0feBOy8MfUNWx6QSiJfwuBZC7VB92m_2FPU6dKN6o4Zbyebc7Z0Xm0hSBEOhMan_y/s320/IMG_20230906_005930225.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>But no matter, the recipe tells us we are allowed to hide structural pie failures with whipped cream. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYb_DfWLskJGXp-QD2bm73ET9Ah6FsInehcS5LVn-2GD1x8sJJrgPC1vEE4cn3Mt1Wp5tUo6vqlMFPGK6jhBV_yKZ6fRk85Beu9P-80WBy8OI8NNE0ntP_lP7OWwCOWPfZQUOJVDcFhajaD9dDyKy4jJF6TGVNO2EH5aXd2SyIoFCnBwSObKiAX7aTvry/s4096/IMG_20230906_005954440.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYb_DfWLskJGXp-QD2bm73ET9Ah6FsInehcS5LVn-2GD1x8sJJrgPC1vEE4cn3Mt1Wp5tUo6vqlMFPGK6jhBV_yKZ6fRk85Beu9P-80WBy8OI8NNE0ntP_lP7OWwCOWPfZQUOJVDcFhajaD9dDyKy4jJF6TGVNO2EH5aXd2SyIoFCnBwSObKiAX7aTvry/s320/IMG_20230906_005954440.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The peach pie was... not bad. The crust tasted fine (if not particularly good). The parts of it that were under the fruit and syrup were an inoffensive crisp counterpoint to the sweet gelatin on top. (I think I must have mismeasured something when making the tiny tart shell for the raspberries.) The peaches and glaze tasted like canned pie filling. <p></p><p>However, you needed a knife and fork to eat this. The peach slices were rock-hard. The pie wasn't terrible, but I would still have needed to mumble a few apologies if I served it to other people.
</p><p>But I figured it could be salvaged. First, if the peaches were going to be as hard as raw apples, I figured I could at least cut them smaller. And so, I carefully tipped them into a bowl and had at them with scissors.
</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUTtrPx1aZSyu2pIzbVLBZ3C7qrrPcnYIGaBShB1KgqdBVdEhPhRrEZeSXzJQSVodWqsxIcM0NW9LgWaDgNzQFj1MT2FDkB0XZGSzgoB7lhDpszzmsdlplPH3l661oSt6WXXOyzU5c1llTm79GAKG9OhYxi9E5x75kZ3whVv9XrGd_62G-TpZjtU0KFPXD/s4096/IMG_20230906_011046555.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUTtrPx1aZSyu2pIzbVLBZ3C7qrrPcnYIGaBShB1KgqdBVdEhPhRrEZeSXzJQSVodWqsxIcM0NW9LgWaDgNzQFj1MT2FDkB0XZGSzgoB7lhDpszzmsdlplPH3l661oSt6WXXOyzU5c1llTm79GAKG9OhYxi9E5x75kZ3whVv9XrGd_62G-TpZjtU0KFPXD/s320/IMG_20230906_011046555.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As a side note, we found a box of antique scissors when clearing through some unexamined boxes that have followed my parents through multiple moves. Because I love (poorly) disguising requests for favors as happy opportunities, I shoved them at a friend who's into knives because he made the mistake of saying he wanted to learn to sharpen scissors a few weeks prior. <p></p><p>Well, after getting sharpened, all of the scissors in the box are so <i>satisfying</i> to use. He ended up making puppy-eyes at me while holding the last pair to come off the sharpening stone, so naturally I said he could keep a pair. It now lives carefully guarded on his desk. We've been handing a pair of these scissors to visitors with a piece of paper and saying "You've <i>got</i> to try these."
</p><p>Anyway, the scissors made short work of the hard fruit. </p><p>Meanwhile, we had an entire pie crust to deal with. I smashed and seasoned it.<br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv2PRUDUiH3ON5g9OU27evcsGZO_sE5BWG0eRczrbQMieXbZicVp0U4Bt76S1ioH8kLWoOr11i1_BVYUvobILEkGrmaQEspwofDP-QAhRue6ArWh0Y7fmK4DytkAk-C6UQGSRqyMcRlDbtOz_JOgEX1Z4CNh64qhQgKDR-51-WLhjS0BC1kJump88WlzVH/s4096/IMG_20230906_010819856.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv2PRUDUiH3ON5g9OU27evcsGZO_sE5BWG0eRczrbQMieXbZicVp0U4Bt76S1ioH8kLWoOr11i1_BVYUvobILEkGrmaQEspwofDP-QAhRue6ArWh0Y7fmK4DytkAk-C6UQGSRqyMcRlDbtOz_JOgEX1Z4CNh64qhQgKDR-51-WLhjS0BC1kJump88WlzVH/s320/IMG_20230906_010819856.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because I hate dirty dishes as much as whoever wrote this recipe, I mixed the crust in the pie pan just like the first time.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>Where there wasn't any pie on top to hide the flavor, the crust was a little... off-tasting. But because I hate throwing more ingredients at failures, I decided to work with it instead of starting from scratch. And so, I dumped in arbitrary amounts of cinnamon and sugar and hoped for the best.
</p><p>The resulting pie mixture was unexpectedly good, and almost addictive. It has that perfect salty-sweet balance, and the cinnamon made it as perfect as you can expect cooking oil to be. I temporarily moved the shattered remains of the crust into a bowl and got the peaches back into the pan. (Yes, I baked the pie in the same pan that it had just come out of. Why add dirty dishes to dirty dishes?)<br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgGTwBGzrEvWZF1KwaAGwx8kWjbAotPdQ-rmzPGD-obPIvvQZvDEVnptrMXdwsyfFr0_1nS9rT3V4b-KWg2xw6bRypw1lLXtB0fzeMXNNve8o2dB5ZOUa_sZ4XKHXijCBsLkUxk_CcdS-B_q7lcrUMJNiVvxSGzFiigycyoffkLExfpVQRXD0hRp1bRqL/s4096/IMG_20230906_011304985.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgGTwBGzrEvWZF1KwaAGwx8kWjbAotPdQ-rmzPGD-obPIvvQZvDEVnptrMXdwsyfFr0_1nS9rT3V4b-KWg2xw6bRypw1lLXtB0fzeMXNNve8o2dB5ZOUa_sZ4XKHXijCBsLkUxk_CcdS-B_q7lcrUMJNiVvxSGzFiigycyoffkLExfpVQRXD0hRp1bRqL/s320/IMG_20230906_011304985.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />And so, we sprinkled the crust on top of the pie, and it was ready to bake for the second time in one night! Since I didn't end up using all of the oil-loaded crust crumbles, one could technically argue that the pie is reduced-fat. Or at least, that's what I told myself.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5M0FilO21MyywBryMqC9SPWQ7OJiPMcduQzPlgVBSDZUy9URa_-RI9LqSTe1aLbJUIv6SYPGI3NfNb_SSOl3R0izdVw6BHoVATsjcHe405I3Xplkrrjt3iUPNrEftpVYzF6NOH0205dQamA5Z4YIfRn9WGJyMExLyKa8oeDdg4wjZrJmldbc6EjONQ5J/s4096/IMG_20230906_014305974.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5M0FilO21MyywBryMqC9SPWQ7OJiPMcduQzPlgVBSDZUy9URa_-RI9LqSTe1aLbJUIv6SYPGI3NfNb_SSOl3R0izdVw6BHoVATsjcHe405I3Xplkrrjt3iUPNrEftpVYzF6NOH0205dQamA5Z4YIfRn9WGJyMExLyKa8oeDdg4wjZrJmldbc6EjONQ5J/s320/IMG_20230906_014305974.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We decided to take the casserole approach to cooking our pie (or cobbler, or whatever it is now): bake until bubbly. Twenty minutes later, we pulled it out of the oven looking more golden on top and merrily bubbling away.
<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhroulk7ZbIBvGz9-d_HAJZhbjPNiuq5emd7CMmf_S59Jgck6bW7MzLFVuYoJJQxJHeMOAIWgWyeSVTU3vHw1YVMZb0pDg8npKgUvdCSsp1WzdsA4OIsjkMmIGXqk4-COjtKXg0QaF60AbuXY2Om2D3M8cIK4LPcvxsTPoh2RNC26OEN0zV3yF-b3ud5NIL/s4096/IMG_20230906_020408961.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhroulk7ZbIBvGz9-d_HAJZhbjPNiuq5emd7CMmf_S59Jgck6bW7MzLFVuYoJJQxJHeMOAIWgWyeSVTU3vHw1YVMZb0pDg8npKgUvdCSsp1WzdsA4OIsjkMmIGXqk4-COjtKXg0QaF60AbuXY2Om2D3M8cIK4LPcvxsTPoh2RNC26OEN0zV3yF-b3ud5NIL/s320/IMG_20230906_020408961.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />All right, everything about this pie tastes fake but somehow it all <i>works</i>. The filling tastes like suspiciously perfect artificial flavoring. The crust tastes weird (though I have to say, a cooking oil crust is better than a shortening one.) However, like the <a href="https://abookofcookrye.blogspot.com/2020/07/hump-day-quickie-ice-cream-bread-or.html" target="_blank">ice cream bread</a>, all that synthetic-ness adds up into something far better than it should be. And so, we will conclude by saying that this pie is... well, it's <i>okay</i> if you make it as-is. But if you smash the pie and rearrange it a bit, it's delicious.<p></p><p> Thank you for joining on this Pieathlon adventure! If you haven't yet, have a look at what everyone else made!</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Yinzerella of Dinner Is Served 1972 organized the Pieathlon and made <a href="https://dinnerisserved1972.com/2023/09/06/pieathalon-10-villa-pie-1975/" target="_blank">Villa Pie</a> <br /></li><li>Dr. Bobb of Dr. Bobb's Kitschen made <a href="https://dbkitschen.blogspot.com/2023/09/pieathalon-x-anthony-hopkins-4-star.html" target="_blank">Anthony Hopkins' 4-Star Shepherd's Pie</a></li><li>Poppy Crocker of Grannie Pantries made <a href=" https://granniepantries.blogspot.com/2023/09/in-which-your-humble-writer-once-again.html" target="_blank">Coconut Cream Pie</a> </li><li>Surly of Vintage Recipe Cards made <a href="https://vintagerecipecards.com/2023/09/05/pieathalon-2023-the-lie-of-hot-fudge-pie/" target="_blank">Hot Fudge Pie</a></li><li>Kari of The Nostalgic Cook made <a href="http://www.thenostalgiccook.com/2023/09/pieathalon-10-aspic-salad-pie-why-oh.html" target="_blank">Aspic Salad Pie</a> </li><li>Culinary Cam made the <a href="https://www.culinarycam.com/post/pieathalonx" target="_blank">Ballymaloe Chicken Pie</a> </li><li>Catherine of Kitchen Confidence made <a href="https://www.kitchenconfidence.co.uk/all-recipes/pieathalon-x-a-delicious-apple-pie/" target="_blank">Vincent Price's Apple Pie</a></li><li>Jenny of Silver Screen Suppers made <a href="https://www.silverscreensuppers.com/anthony-hopkins/pieathalon-10-beef-and-hash-brown-pie" target="_blank">Beef and Hash Brown Pie</a></li><li>Taryn of Retro Food for Modern Times made <a href="https://www.retrofoodformoderntimes.com/2023/09/06/not-quite-a-hershey-pie-pieathalon-x/" target="_blank">Hershey Pie</a> <br /></li></ul><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ERkI2XLOBbTLQ0mP95_d6rcj_PEN4kxT2AA2gMaShFZT8lwGxxvCGQN7fLNUx_OEM1iNAmwaRdUkx7w0kFzB_uT357XjRm471ngsqXm6o6ZgshQw3L2zpgo5StKsAF1j-ty987kkcl9BdwSET7NV28iiLYgar-urvV8uPQ5IGUYLstCQ-hDgPe-NMjBw/s1078/IMG_6302.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1078" data-original-width="1078" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ERkI2XLOBbTLQ0mP95_d6rcj_PEN4kxT2AA2gMaShFZT8lwGxxvCGQN7fLNUx_OEM1iNAmwaRdUkx7w0kFzB_uT357XjRm471ngsqXm6o6ZgshQw3L2zpgo5StKsAF1j-ty987kkcl9BdwSET7NV28iiLYgar-urvV8uPQ5IGUYLstCQ-hDgPe-NMjBw/s320/IMG_6302.jpeg" width="320" /></a></p>S. S.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17922340554746740866noreply@blogger.com17