i thought of this strip this morning as i was making breakfast. i decided on oatmeal-cranberry-white-chocolate-chip scones. i love scones. they’re just healthy enough that i don’t feel bad eating them but just sweet enough you feel like you’re eating dessert for breakfast. scones.

scones, scones, scones.

point is, the word smock to me is a lot like the word scone (see what i did there).

thankfully, my oatmeal-cranberry-white-chocolate-chip scones came out pretty good today. as they should. i could make them in my sleep. which is also good, considering i’m invariably making them before my first cup of coffee. so anyway, here there are:

aren't they bee-you-tee-full?

(note my cuppa joe there to the right)

they’re incredibly simple to make. would you like to know how? thought you’d never ask. since i really only slightly modified an old better homes & gardens recipe (as opposed to, say, my damn-good chocolate chip cookies) it’s not really a secret. i’m feeling generous. here’s the recipe:

oatmeal-cranberry-white-chocolate-chip scones (or, ocwcc scones, for short)

1 cup a/p flour
3 tablespoons packed brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/3 cup unsalted butter, chilled
1 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup dried cranberries, and
1/4 cup white chocolate chips, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup skim milk
1 egg, beaten or 1/4 cup egg substitute

milk + pure vanilla extract

pre-heat oven to 400°f. line a cookie sheet with parchment. in a medium mixing bowl, combine flour, brown sugar, baking powder and cinnamon. using a pastry cutter (or a couple of forks, or knives – whatever) cut in the butter until mixture resembles course crumbs. stir in the rolled oats, cranberries and white chocolate chips (to save time and dishes, i usually chop the dried cranberries and chocolate chips together in a mini-food processor). combine the 1/4 cup milk and egg, then mix into the dry mixture (dough will be sticky).

on prepared cookie sheet, sprinkle a little flour; dump dough onto parchment, sprinkle some flour on top, then pat down into a 7 – 8″ circle. cut the circle into 12 segments (or less, if you want the scones to be larger). in your measuring cup (since its already used anyway – save dishes!) mix an ounce or two of milk with a splash of pure vanilla extract. brush this mixture over the scones. separate the scones by a few inches across the cookie sheet. pop them in the oven for 11 – 13 minutes.

this is generally just enough time to clean up your mess and brew your joe (or tea, i suppose). the scones don’t really brown much beyond the edges; so don’t be tempted to over-bake them; if you do, they get very dry and very tough.

if you’re not big on cranberries (wha?) or white chocolate (wow!), you can easily make these with just about any sort of mix-in, provided it totals a half cup; raisins, walnuts, chocolate chips, etc. i don’t know how crazy i’d get with the mix-ins, they may alter the consistency of the scones.

you don’t have to be english to love scones. and you don’t have to be a baker to make scones, either.

enjoy your scones!

but really, you only know something about me that i used to do. cause i am fed up. and i know i’m not the only one. anyway, here it is. here’s my reason for boycotting quilted northern. because the grocery shrink ray has struck what used to be my favourite brand not once, not twice, but three times in recent history.

most recently, i discovered while restocking the cabinet that not only had the tube the tissue is rolled on got larger, but that the amount of tissue rolled around the tube got more loosely rolled and is shorter than ever. check this out:

old tube: 1 1/4", new tube: 1 15/16"

seriously, the new tube has grown almost 3/4 of an inch! and then, the amount of tissue around each roll:

it's hard to see it, but that's the new roll on top

alright, measuring from the outside edge of the tube, to the outside edge of the roll, the old one was 1 5/8,” the new one is a lousy 1 7/16″ – i know, i know, it doesn’t seem like a lot, 3/16″ difference, but again, multiplied over the number of rolls per package, you can see where i have a legitimate complaint, right? especially since i’m paying the same amount of money?

well, not anymore. i’m switching brands. not that i’m telling you which brand i’m switching to.

that would be too personal.

later that day, i dispatched them across the country via a variety of methods, including hand delivery. the reactions i received varied. they want something like this:

from the recipient that was furthest away, i received a “mmmmmerry christmas” text, in appreciation of my goodwill.

from the recipient that was closest, i.e., my boyfriend, i was told i really should be selling my baked goodness. i’d make a fortune. (okay, sure, he’s biased, but still…)

from the recipient to whom i delivered the goods personally, i received the most heartfelt gratitude. an email extolling his thanks.

and from the recipient upstate, for whom i’ve only baked on one other occasion, and for whom i’ve custom designed other gifts in the past? what gushing of gratitude did he have for me? how did he thank me, you ask?

nary a word. i gave him the entirety of the week, and, nothing. *crickets*

well! guess who doesn’t get cookies next year?

because, yeah – a simple ‘thank you’ was really all i wanted.

merry fucking christmas.

or maybe i just need more.

anyway, as promised, here’s how it all went down. on wednesday, i baked two pumpkin spice cakes; one with nuts, one without. every baker knows the best way to keep the frosting from melting when you frost is to make sure the cakes are completely cooled; so i figured, give ‘em a whole overnight to cool. in the meantime, i formed some pumpkin leaves from white chocolate colored with green food coloring. in hindsight, i probably should have also gone ahead and made the frosting, to let it set up again overnight as well; but i got distracted, cutting out the dozens of leaves for the pie. i didn’t think i’d have time to get theme all cut out, and get the pie assembled, and the cake frosted all before the big meal on thursday. so thursday morning, while the pie baked, i made the frosting and frosted the cake. anyway, in the end, it didn’t come out quite as beautiful as i had hoped, but the flavor, the texture, the consistency, were all more than i expected. and it wasn’t exactly ugly, certainly not wreck-worthy:

better than expected - sooo much better

oh, and turns out, adding a whole can of organic pumpkin to a cake adds quite a bit of heft to a cake (or two, for that matter) so in the end, the whole thing weighed damn near five pounds.

the pie, on the other hand – well, that’s what i get for going against my better judgement on the recipe. there simply wasn’t enough flavor, and while the crust ended up nearly burned, despite lowering the oven racks and lower the temps, the apples didn’t hardly soften and for that matter, the cubed butter didn’t even melt in some places, despite being in the oven for just over an hour. i shouldn’t have put the leaves over the top of a flat crust, essentially doubling the top crust, especially knowing that the leaves would overlap so much, making the crust, in some places, three and four layers deep.

then, because it didn’t get hot enough under all that crust, as the pie cooled on the sideboard during dinner, almost half a cup of juices came out of the apples, returning the bottom crust to a nearly raw state. and finally – my own fault – i had forgotten to add a little water to my egg yolks when i brushed the leaves, making the crust turn a deep brown rather than a golden tan.

my pie... not so much

in the end, i don’t recommend using the recipe i used; and maybe just use their picture as an inspiration, not a guide.

but this year’s gonna be different. this year – no pumpkin pie. *gasp!*

instead, i’m baking two things – the most beautiful apple pie i’ve ever laid eyes on, and a pumpkin-shaped, pumpkin-spice cake. and i admit, i’m a little nervous.

because this is what i want to bake:

it's so bee-you-tee-full!!!

and this:

is it real? or is it... cake?

and it stands to reason that someone with my experience and skill-set can, with some patience, and if i hold my tongue right, create these masterpieces. but what’s been running through my head since the day i committed to these two edible works of art, is that what i’m going to end up with is this:

screw the leaves, i'm just gonna pile the crust on... and pray

and this:

wait, pumpkins have green veins?

to be continued…

BAM

it’s been two and a half months.

sigh.

so, no apologies this time. just following up on a request. i cook a lot. and bake. i used to bake more – quite a bit actually – but my slowly expanding ass won’t allow me to keep baking all the time like i used to. especially considering my level of physical activity has slowed to a sloth-like pace.

still and all, i love to spend time in the kitchen. wait, back up. i love to spend time in the kitchen when my efforts are appreciated. thankfully, they are appreciated.

one of my most appreciated dinners is steak marsala. a little something i stumbled across years ago when i first started concerning myself with eating healthier – which not-too-coincidentally happened about the same time i could start affording better foods. organics. grass-fed beef. finer cuts. you get the idea.

so – steak marsala. i’m not a big meat eater – my whole problem is the longer i think about it, the more i start to visualize that i am, in fact, eating flesh, and it turns my stomach. but when i do get a hankerin’ for a good piece of meat, steak marsala is by and large my favorite. it’s fast, it’s healthy, and it’s easy. and did i mention fast?

so if you want to make it yourself (and you know you do) you don’t have to have any fancy kitchen equipment or a degree in the culinary arts; but you’d better have a desire to cook more often. because, i’m warning you, this will get requested again.

the grocery list:

• 2 nice thick (like 2″ or more) tenderloin steaks (a.k.a. filet mignon), about 6 oz. each; not bacon-wrapped
• marsala cooking wine (the cheap $hit in the spices aisle, holland house)
• non pareil capers (usually in a 2.5 oz jar in the canned food or salad dressing aisle)
• minced garlic (i don’t bother w/fresh garlic, though some people swear by it. in jars in the produce section)
• salt & pepper (seriously, you don’t have this already??)
• fresh green beans, or asparagus, or broccoli – enough to steam for two of you

the good news is, other than the steaks, there will be enough of everything else to make this about 4 more times. the bad news is, this first trip to the store for an incredibly short list will likely run you about $40-$50.

alright. when you get home, leave the steaks on the counter while you rinse the fresh veggies. if you’ve got a large pot and a steamer basket, great, add about a 1/2 inch of water to the pot and put the veggies in the basket. put that on to boil/steam while you prep the rest. if you only have some bowls and a nuke-box, put about a 1/4 cup of water in a bowl, add the veggies, put some plastic wrap over it and stick it in there. don’t cook them yet.

now, unwrap your steaks, spray a frying pan with some cooking spray and put the steaks in there. spread about a half teaspoon of the garlic on top of each of them, then flip them and do the same, and shake some salt & pepper on both sides. turn your burner on about 1/3 to 1/2 way. let your steaks cook for maybe 7-10  minutes, resisting the urge to poke or turn them. once the brown starts to spread about half way up the sides, flip them and let them cook another 10 minutes or so.

the beauty of filet mingnon (especially a good one) is that you can eat them way more rare than you would, say, a strip steak or t-bone. to test these for doneness, press your thumb into the center; the resistance should feel about like when you’re pushing your thumb into the heel of your hand. this means they’re about medium-rare.

remove them from the pan (leaving the heat on) and set them on a plate. if you’re steaming your veggies on the stove, you can turn them off at this point. if you’re nuking them, now’s about the time you want to get them going. 3-4 minutes for green beans or asparagus, 5-7 for broccoli.

take a half-cup of the marsala wine and put it in the pan. it should almost immediately come to a boil. add in two tablespoons of the capers. using a spoon or something that won’t scratch your pan (if you’re worried about it) let the marsala cook down for about 3-5 minutes while scraping the garlic up off the pan and stirring the capers around. you should end up with a nice, brownish-red juice.

put one steak on each plate, along with about half of your veggie of choice. spoon some of the juice from the pan along with the capers over each steak.

tada! steak marsala. isn’t it beautiful? don’tcha look like a friggin master chef?

okay, we ate ours before i snapped a pic, but it looks a lot like this, only with more juice.

(and thanks to goGLco for making me finally write something.)

“this’ll only take a few minutes” – translates roughly to “this is totally easy, based on either a id-10t error or a loose nut between the keyboard and the chair”

“the best choice is to rebuild it/start over” – translates to “i’ll take it back to the office if you want, but basically, you’re f$#ked, and i hope you backed your $hit up sometime in the past decade” and

“this’ll take 15 minutes, tops.” – which translates to “this is actually going to take all night, and possibly half of tomorrow, because no matter how close i get to fixing it, there will be one last corrupted file and/or one last missing driver and/or one final fatal error that will keep you from your lunch/dinner/bedtime.

to which i’ve told him that the best way to keep jobs in the first or second catagory is to avoid claiming they fit in the third under any and all circumstances.

a funny thing happened yesterday, though. he didn’t curse a thing. in fact, he didn’t even make any claim as to how long it was going to take to do anything. wordpress, though, did me in. wordpress told me that upgrading the software on my blog would “famously take five minutes.” yeah, well… no. not really.

oh, *downloading* the upgrade took way less than five minutes. heck, even installing it still had me way under. it was the actual act of upgrading that got screwed. that, it turns out, had the infamous 15-minute curse written all over it. i should have known.

so here i am, finally, almost 24 hours later, almost completely back to normal. and in fact, in many ways, a better than normal. because now that the stupid upgrade seems to be working, i got to make a few cool changes. like adding some new *clickables* over yonder <— (howdy, doubleclicktech and bake@350!! ) and i was finally able to turn commenting back on, because i was finally able to include an actual, workable spam filter. so!

so thanks for enduring the black out. i’ll try not to have another for another couple of years. or so. ;op

which is funny, really — sidenote — i used to shop kroger religiously. thought their produce was the bomb-diggity. and i used to hate heb, i guess because when i first came to texas, heb wasn’t heb, it was heb food pantry. which reminded me of aldi stores back in the midwest, which were stores where almost-dead groceries went to go be sold to poor folk for discounts. but i digress…

go get you some blackberries, and make some blackberry breakfast bars. they are absolutely wondrous. and you don’t even have to eat them just for breakfast. grab one whenever you’re just plain hungry. and now, i do something completely unbitchy; i share my recipe:

2 cups fresh blackberries (two of the little plastic packs)
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons water
1 tablespoon lemon juice
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup quick cooking rolled oats (or regular oats)
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
½ cup margarine or butter melted

DIRECTIONS

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a mixing bowl stir together flour, oats, brown sugar, ¼ teaspoon cinnamon, and baking soda. Stir in melted margarine or butter till thoroughly combined. Set aside 1 cup of the oat mixture for topping. Press remaining oat mixture into an ungreased 9x9x2-inch pan. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes.

For filling, in a medium saucepan combine berries, sugar, water, lemon juice and ½ teaspoon cinnamon. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat. Simmer, uncovered, for about 8 minutes or till slightly thickened, stirring frequently. Remove from heat.

Carefully spread filling on top of baked crust. Sprinkle with reserved oat mixture. Lightly press oat mixture into filling. Bake in the 350-degree oven for 20 to 25 minutes more or till topping is set. Cool in pan on a wire rack. Cut into bars.

you’ve got to try these!! now, go!!!

over

and over

and OVER again

whenever he rolls down the street. Why? Because we live on a dead end street – so he rolls down, turns around, rolls back… then goes to the next street over, also a treat, because it’s a cul-de-sac. and he’s got the damn music so loud that i’m pretty certain he’s attempting to get the attention of children from here to austin with that thing.

he’s heartlessly cruel to those of us that have no intention of purchasing his wares. he rolls on through whenever the temperature peaks out over 60. sometimes 58. which means he tortures us with this eight-point-five second rendition of “turkey in the straw” at least once per week every month of the year, and sometimes up to three times a day come summer. he’s already been by five or six times in the past ten days.

which begs the question: does he just hang on to all that ice cream and sell it when he sells it? or does he get new stuff when the stuff from this winter doesn’t sell to sell in the spring?

now, just because i was taught to share, and because whenever he rolls by, one of many variations of said tune gets stuck in my head (the murphy’s oil soap jingle, chain hang low, ears hang low), i thought i’d share the little ditty with you. so you can sing along too:

don’t worry, kids. one day, sooner than you can even imagine, you’ll cross a bridge. you might not even realize it’s happened. i didn’t. but someday, you’ll understand that party is not necessarily a verb. and you’ll discover you can get by just fine without consuming clover-tinted beer.

and then you’ll be satisfied with having breakfast at an irish pub instead. and curling up with a glass of wine to watch the 10 o’clock news before calling it a night.

now that… that is happiness. yep. your very own pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow.