Today... I needed to bake a few more sweets.
Need? Well... yes! A peppermint swirl cake(with peppermint hot fudge)for dinner at a friend's house and red velvet cupcakes for another friend's birthday tomorrow.
So the extent of my Black Friday shopping included a 9am trip to Publix.
So what was it I wanted you to know?
As I was reaching for the peppermint extract, I saw three rows of almond extract...
... and I did not pick one up! I actually laughed when I saw the boxes all lined up! This time, I knew for certain that I did not need any more almond extract!
But I am nervous... about the new instinct not to buy it.
I only have two bottle left! I'm bound to be out the next time I need it...
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
November 27, 2009
November 26, 2009
happy thanksgiving
The congo squares are in the oven... and the parade will start in just over an hour. While those things speak Thanksgiving to my heart... there is more.
There is always more... and that is something to be thankful for in itself. God gives and gives... and all I have to do is receive. Sometimes it just stops me in my tracks. I deserve none of this... and yet, here I am in the midst of a beautiful life. My cup of blessings is overflowing... and I wonder why me?
Wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving, with your cup overflowing with the things that really matter...
November 23, 2009
gingerbread starts with g
**updated with new pictures!**
Gingerbread is a long standing tradition in our family.
Gingerbread cookies, dressed in royal icing overalls and aprons...
but most especially gingerbread houses.
Somewhere in that ever-creative mind of hers, my Mom dreamed up a gingerbread house design, and went to work. She sold them at craft fairs... and by word of mouth. They were as delicious as they were beautiful. Some years there were 300... and other years many less. Some years they sold... and I remember one year when they didn't. Boxes were piled high by the door... to be donated somewhere. Thinking back, I can only imagine a fraction of the pain in her heart, as I am sure we could have used the money from the sales... or even just for the supplies. But she gave them away... and never let on her disappointment. And every fall, the Big Bertha mixer would be fired up once again... and the scent of cloves and ginger and molasses filled the house.
I do remember a summer... when the mixing started early. For just one house. My Mom entered the Good Housekeeping gingerbread house contest. It was a mansion. Two stories. A veranda with a gazebo and delicately piped railings. A Pez chimney... and royal icing fir trees. It was... beyond spectacular. And we all just knew that this house would adorn the front cover of the magazine. Somehow... we were wrong. And when the issue was delivered to our house we were astonished. The winning house may have been deserving... to their eyes, not ours... but it was the second place house that boggled our minds. It was a roughly made version of the Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe. And I knew that not even rose-colored glasses would make it appear more lovely than the mansion that my Mom had built with hope and anticipation.
Making the gingerbread houses became a family affair. When we were too little to place the candies just so, we sorted them. Buckets upon buckets of Necco Wafer "shingles" were sorted piece by piece. And we could only eat one if it was broken. We did graduate to placing the candy on the house... and that is one of my favorite memories. Mom would squirt out the royal icing and my job was to come along behind and place and space the M&M's just so. I was used to doing things quickly to please my Mom... and so I did my best to be fast and accurate. It became a racing game... which made us both laugh. And to this day is we start a task together she will say No Racing! But I can't ever seem to help myself.
As the years went on... my Gramma took over the shingle sorting job... and my sister & I helped more and more with the decorating. All sorts of jobs... snowing at the base of the house... planting gumdrop flowers and candy canes... even playing Mother Nature and snowing on the roof. Beautiful memories... every one.
Florida's humidity is too much for gingerbread houses... and the special order cookie cutter no longer punches out villages of houses. But on the morning of Christmas Eve... my Mom will make gingerbread houses with her grandkids. It won't matter where the M&M's get placed... or if the snow covers the entire roof. It won't even matter if one of the kids licks their fingers before they touch the candy. It is just a tradition... carrying on in a new sort of way. And it makes my heart smile.
It is A to Z Monday at Jen's... I wonder what she has cooked up over there.
Gingerbread is a long standing tradition in our family.
Gingerbread cookies, dressed in royal icing overalls and aprons...
but most especially gingerbread houses.
Somewhere in that ever-creative mind of hers, my Mom dreamed up a gingerbread house design, and went to work. She sold them at craft fairs... and by word of mouth. They were as delicious as they were beautiful. Some years there were 300... and other years many less. Some years they sold... and I remember one year when they didn't. Boxes were piled high by the door... to be donated somewhere. Thinking back, I can only imagine a fraction of the pain in her heart, as I am sure we could have used the money from the sales... or even just for the supplies. But she gave them away... and never let on her disappointment. And every fall, the Big Bertha mixer would be fired up once again... and the scent of cloves and ginger and molasses filled the house.
I do remember a summer... when the mixing started early. For just one house. My Mom entered the Good Housekeeping gingerbread house contest. It was a mansion. Two stories. A veranda with a gazebo and delicately piped railings. A Pez chimney... and royal icing fir trees. It was... beyond spectacular. And we all just knew that this house would adorn the front cover of the magazine. Somehow... we were wrong. And when the issue was delivered to our house we were astonished. The winning house may have been deserving... to their eyes, not ours... but it was the second place house that boggled our minds. It was a roughly made version of the Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe. And I knew that not even rose-colored glasses would make it appear more lovely than the mansion that my Mom had built with hope and anticipation.
Making the gingerbread houses became a family affair. When we were too little to place the candies just so, we sorted them. Buckets upon buckets of Necco Wafer "shingles" were sorted piece by piece. And we could only eat one if it was broken. We did graduate to placing the candy on the house... and that is one of my favorite memories. Mom would squirt out the royal icing and my job was to come along behind and place and space the M&M's just so. I was used to doing things quickly to please my Mom... and so I did my best to be fast and accurate. It became a racing game... which made us both laugh. And to this day is we start a task together she will say No Racing! But I can't ever seem to help myself.
As the years went on... my Gramma took over the shingle sorting job... and my sister & I helped more and more with the decorating. All sorts of jobs... snowing at the base of the house... planting gumdrop flowers and candy canes... even playing Mother Nature and snowing on the roof. Beautiful memories... every one.
Florida's humidity is too much for gingerbread houses... and the special order cookie cutter no longer punches out villages of houses. But on the morning of Christmas Eve... my Mom will make gingerbread houses with her grandkids. It won't matter where the M&M's get placed... or if the snow covers the entire roof. It won't even matter if one of the kids licks their fingers before they touch the candy. It is just a tradition... carrying on in a new sort of way. And it makes my heart smile.
It is A to Z Monday at Jen's... I wonder what she has cooked up over there.
November 20, 2009
the bazaar
We don't get to go every year. Seems like our November weekends are particularly crazy... marching band, boy scouts and work. But this year, the timing was right and I was thrilled that I had half of an empty square on my calendar... and that it lined right up with my Mom's church bazaar. She works so hard every year... starting the day after Christmas when she hits the craft stores in search of clearance, and ending in a heap when bazaar day is done. How I love to browse those long tables and admire the handiwork of the church ladies... and I love that with a glance... I know which items were made by my Mom's own hands. 
But we don't necessarily go to shop. The kids & I go to work. In the kitchen. Because not only does my Mom organize the front tables, she & Bob also put on a five star lunch! Chicken salad, taco soup, meatball subs... a few slices of tropical carrot cake! My job is to make the sandwiches... and scoop out the chicken salad to top off a salad. Laura works the counter, making and serving up the coffee and filling the orders as quickly as they come in. And Camden? He is the heart breaker. His job is to bus the tables... and he is good. So good, in fact, that the church ladies nearly swoon. And practically throw one dollar bills at him! Oh yes, that boy made over twelve dollars in tips!
Bazaar day is a day I love. Lending my own hands to something so near and dear to my Mom's heart, and being a part of her world. And most years I go away from it with tears in my pocket. Don't worry... they are tears glistening with joy and with gratitude. You see... these people... they appreciate my Mom & Bob. They see their hard work and know that these are two special people. A church is not ever just one person, or a few... it is about all of the hands that serve and worship Jesus. And my parents make sure they do their part and give all they can... and probably a little more. When the church members figure out who I am, they go on and on. About how much my parents do, and what a difference they make. And so my eyes tear up. Because while I hoped and prayed for their faith, I never quite thought to dream of this for them... and it is as much a gift to me as it is for their church. And I am ever thankful that God's dreams reach so much farther than mine.
But we don't necessarily go to shop. The kids & I go to work. In the kitchen. Because not only does my Mom organize the front tables, she & Bob also put on a five star lunch! Chicken salad, taco soup, meatball subs... a few slices of tropical carrot cake! My job is to make the sandwiches... and scoop out the chicken salad to top off a salad. Laura works the counter, making and serving up the coffee and filling the orders as quickly as they come in. And Camden? He is the heart breaker. His job is to bus the tables... and he is good. So good, in fact, that the church ladies nearly swoon. And practically throw one dollar bills at him! Oh yes, that boy made over twelve dollars in tips!
Bazaar day is a day I love. Lending my own hands to something so near and dear to my Mom's heart, and being a part of her world. And most years I go away from it with tears in my pocket. Don't worry... they are tears glistening with joy and with gratitude. You see... these people... they appreciate my Mom & Bob. They see their hard work and know that these are two special people. A church is not ever just one person, or a few... it is about all of the hands that serve and worship Jesus. And my parents make sure they do their part and give all they can... and probably a little more. When the church members figure out who I am, they go on and on. About how much my parents do, and what a difference they make. And so my eyes tear up. Because while I hoped and prayed for their faith, I never quite thought to dream of this for them... and it is as much a gift to me as it is for their church. And I am ever thankful that God's dreams reach so much farther than mine.
November 16, 2009
helping hands start with h
Two H's.
Six hands helping her two.
And a lot of fun.
Every year my Mom makes a hundred (or so!) cheese balls for the church bazaar... along with a ton of other fantastic goodies! This year...she planned on mixing up the cheese balls on a day when I was off of work, and school was out. So... on a breezy Monday morning, Laura, Cam & I set out to lend our helping hands.
She was all set up to start... and when we arrived she sat down with Laura & Cam to explain their jobs. Doubling recipes. Measuring spices. Using the big knife... and the food processor. Laura & Cam loved being in the kitchen... and having some independence. I... was nervous. That our "help" would actually be not-so-helpful and the job would take twice as long to do with so many hands. Getting in the way, rather than speeding up the job. But there was no need to worry. We laughed. We worked. We played... and we finished hours earlier than if my Mom had done it all on her own.
I really hope my kids remember this day. I hope they tuck this memory into their hearts... and smile whenever they come across a cheese ball. I hope that someday... they will have the chance to work in the kitchen with their own grandkids... and that they will show the same patience that their Gramma showed them. Because working together... hand in hand with your family... is certainly a memory worth cherishing.
Happy A to Z Monday!
Six hands helping her two.
And a lot of fun.
Every year my Mom makes a hundred (or so!) cheese balls for the church bazaar... along with a ton of other fantastic goodies! This year...she planned on mixing up the cheese balls on a day when I was off of work, and school was out. So... on a breezy Monday morning, Laura, Cam & I set out to lend our helping hands.
She was all set up to start... and when we arrived she sat down with Laura & Cam to explain their jobs. Doubling recipes. Measuring spices. Using the big knife... and the food processor. Laura & Cam loved being in the kitchen... and having some independence. I... was nervous. That our "help" would actually be not-so-helpful and the job would take twice as long to do with so many hands. Getting in the way, rather than speeding up the job. But there was no need to worry. We laughed. We worked. We played... and we finished hours earlier than if my Mom had done it all on her own.
I really hope my kids remember this day. I hope they tuck this memory into their hearts... and smile whenever they come across a cheese ball. I hope that someday... they will have the chance to work in the kitchen with their own grandkids... and that they will show the same patience that their Gramma showed them. Because working together... hand in hand with your family... is certainly a memory worth cherishing.
Happy A to Z Monday!
October 12, 2009
meringue starts with m
Using her new lime green Nintendo DS(that would be DS #5... thank you extended warranty!)and its cooking game, Laura made a pavlova... which is a meringue shell topped with a sweet cream and beautiful fruit. An Australian dessert. It was... as delicious as it was beautiful. And I loved that she was busy in the kitchen... cooking away. One and a while she called out for a hand, but she really did it on her own. I was impressed... probably because she was not daunted by the thought of trying something completely new... and not once did it travel through her mind that she might not be able to do it. Me? I would have leafed right on by that page in my cookbook. She is growing up in so many ways... and her confidence is growing right along with her. And I am thrilled.
Glad I am not missing out on A to Z Monday! I'm so glad Jen puts up with me! Happy Monday.
October 01, 2009
florida fall
October has crept in with just a whispered hint of that glorious Fall air. Forecasted, yes... but still unexpected. I have learned not to hang my Fall hopes on October... because it could go either way. The Florida Fall doesn't quite know how to behave. A continuation of scorching summer? Or a chill in the air that nips at your nose? Somewhere in the middle might be nice, but it seems that October only knows extremes. So I wait... for the days to lean towards November, where Fall is more certain. But my groceries? They are heralding the arrival...
August 10, 2009
variety starts with v
A variety of pizza toppings... chosen by my family members. Since summer is for taking time to do the things the rest of the year maybe doesn't allow for... we decided to make pizza. From scratch.
From scratch? What's that, Mom?
Ahhh... from scratch. We proofed the yeast. We measured the flour. And we set our hands to kneading. It was messy... and it was fun. Not to mention, a reminder that from scratch is really pretty great.
We each loaded up our pizzas with a variety of yummy toppings...
...and there were smiles all around.
Working my way from Z to A with Jen @ Unglazed.
August 05, 2009
the recipe
I don't think I have ever posted a recipe... but this casserole got a lot of compliments, and it is quite yummy! This is something I found in Taste of Home... years ago. I first made it for a group of girlfriends that came to scrapbook... and I remember taking it out of the oven and being so pleasantly surprised (okay shocked!) that it looked as beautiful in person as it had in the magazine. And it was so delicious. This is my go-to meal... for a pot-luck or for a sick friend. So, here is the recipe... from the Taste of Home... with a few tweaks by me.
Chicken Biscuit Bake
1 can cream of "something" soup
2/3 cup mayonnaise
2-3 t Worcestershire sauce (you know I have plenty of this!)
4 c cubed chicken (or canned chicken, or a rotisserie chicken)
3 cups frozen broccoli florets, cooked (or not... thawed is okay)
1 medium onion, chopped (I never remember the onion!)
1 c shredded cheddar cheese (or whatever kind you have in the fridge!)
2 tubes refrigerated buttermilk biscuits
2 eggs
1/2 c sour cream
2 t celery seed
In a bowl, combine soup, mayo & Worcestershire sauce. Stir in chicken, broccoli & onion (if you remembered it!) Transfer to a greased 9x13 baking dish and sprinkle the top with cheese. Cover and bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes. Separate the biscuits and cut each in half. Arrange over the top of the hot chicken mixture (if you use the same biscuits I use, you'll get three long rows of 13 biscuit halves, with one extra.) In a bowl, mix together the eggs, sour cream and celery seed; pour over the biscuits. Bake, uncovered, 20 minutes loner, or until golden brown. Easy. And delicious.
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