Archive for April, 2008

We have this tree in the back yard. It’s a little thing that was here when we bought the house. Our home is only 6 years old, so the tree is still an itty bitty, though it has grown a lot in the two years we’ve lived here.

Our first winter here, we thought it had died. It shed everything it had and we were left with just a lone, tall stick poking up from the ground. Our baby oak tree in the front did not do this, but this stick in the back we were sad to see die. Come spring, the silly thing started growing and getting leaves and such again. It didn’t die, it just went into hibernation. *giggle*

It did the same thing this winter, but at least we knew what to expect this time. Now it’s starting to put on some green again. I have no idea what kind of tree it is, but it’s a funny little thing. In another month, it will be completely FULL of lovely green leaves.

Oh, and look. A beeeeeby squash! Too cute to eat.

The curse of the kitchen disasters, you know. It left as suddenly as it came, leaving behind a veritable feast of yummiliciousness (oooh, Crystal made up a word!).

I’m not sure why it decided to visit my home, nor do I know why it chose to go, but let me tell you I am sure glad that it did. Perhaps it left with my cold, or perhaps my little emo dog chased it away with her sad, sad eyes. Or maybe… just maybe… it was banished into the night with the arrival of the newest member of our household.

Meet my new favorite family member, Miss KitchenAid Mixer.

Aint she a beaut? Her baby sister, Li’l Immersion Blender is sitting next to her. I’ve been wanting to welcome Miss Mixer into my home for quite some time now and after months and months of agonizing over the decision I went for it. I bought the souped up model with the all metal gears and the huge bowl and the powerful motor. This baby has some power, people. I was originally not going to spring for that one, but I found it for a crazy low price and with a rebate to boot and I carefully measured the tiny spot on my counter to make sure it would fit… and, well, obviously it does. Barely. *grin*

When I ordered her, I had visions of bread loaves and cookies and brownies dancing in my head. I’m hopefully going to be a mom someday, and moms bake, you know. They do not, however, kill off half of their state by making nu-cu-ler pastries. But I have these grand dreams of me and Miss Mixer creating all sorts of yummilicious items full of genetically-modified-wheat and white sugar and pounds and pounds of luscious butter. Someone’s gotta fatten me up (seriously… lost toooo much weight this winter!). Do you think she’s up to the task?

I’m thinking of buying her a few friends to play with. Mr. Grain Mill and Mrs. Pasta Maker. Maaaaaybe if my husband is nice enough to me, I’ll consider having his buddy, Mr. Ice Cream Maker Dude, over for a few meals. But for now, it’s just me and Miss Mixer. But oh, what a wonderful pair we are.

We have already made pizza (with a chickpea crust):

And peanut butter cookies…. MMmmmmm!

That was Saturday. Sunday she really got a workout by mixing up some yummy doughy, yeasty goodness.

Oh yes. Bread. FRESH bread. Like, two loaves of BREAD. Made with yeast and white flour and white sugar. Kneaded and risen to perfection. *happy sigh* Can you even believe it?!

And it.is.gooood.y’all.

See? The first loaf is already half gone.

I can definitely say that Miss Mixer was broken into quite nicely this weekend. And my mind is going nuts trying to decide what to bake next! You know you like your new mixer when you look at the huge batch of cookies on the table and find yourself wanting to binge on them just so that you will have a good excuse to make brownies.

Who has issues? Not me. I just have a yummiliciousness-inducing new toy. Oh, and the absence of the kitchen curse, of course.

Me: “Hey hon, what would you do if I decided to dread my hair?”

Hubby: “I would dread your hair too.”

… gets no cookie.

People, I hereby declare myself dangerous in the kitchen. Remember the nu-cu-ler bread I made on Wednesday? Oh yeah. It gets worse.

Friday afternoon, I decided I REALLY wanted cookies. These cookies, to be specific, though I do not know why the person who posted them said to use instant oats. I’ve been eating these my entire life, and I’m pretty sure I’ve always had them with quick oats. At least that is what mama tells me to buy when I frantically call her from the grocery store to ask which kind I need. QUICK oats. Not old fashioned. Not instant. Instant oats are, like, ewwwe, but I digress.

At first I thought I did not have enough sugar, but it turns out that I had just enough. Whew. All was well. I carefully measured out my ingredients, paying extra attention this time (even though I did not use the confusing measuring cups – I desperately wanted these cookies and did not want to mess them up!). I used the special dark cocoa… mmmmmm… and threw in a dash of salt, just like mama taught me. Chocolate desserts need a dash of salt. Sometimes we make these with peanut butter and sometimes we leave it out. This time, however, the peanut butter was a-callin’ my name. It has calories, you know, and I need calories. Plus, I haven’t yet tasted them with special dark cocoa and peanut butter.

I set out my pot with the ingredients and got it going. Maybe 45 seconds later, I looked over and saw a measuring glass… with 1/2 cup milk. *sigh* I forgot to pour in the milk. Things seemed ok, so I poured it in. It immediately started to simmer. Hmm. I stirred vigorously and 30 seconds later, the bottom felt as though it had sticky stuff on it. By the time the mixture came up to a boil, it stunk to high heaven. Don’t you love the smell of burnt sugar AND burnt chocolate? Oh yes, it is a lovely combo for sure.

I ruined the stinking (literally) cookies! I could not believe it. I’ve made these for years and years and have never made such a mistake.

Of course, I used up the last of the sugar so I could not make another batch. *grumble, grumble* And do you know how nicely burnt sugar and cocoa sticks to the bottom of a stainless steel pan? I think the three became one. It took several boiling soaks to get it off (ever boiled water with baking soda? That’s kind of fun.). Here’s how it looked after a few soaks and scrapes:

It did finally come clean. That’s why I love stainless so… it can take a lot of abuse! Of course, the story does not end here. Nope, not quite. During my attempt to cause the pan and the burnt sugar/cocoa to get a divorce, something else happened.

Yep. To add insult to injury, I melted the end of my measuring cup.

I’m a GOOD COOK. I promise, I really am. Ask my husband and my daddy. Sure I set a pan on fire when cooking our second wedding anniversary dinner, forcing us to eat at Burger King for the memorable event instead… but that doesn’t count. Nor does the fact that I coated the entire kitchen with a fine layer of fire extinguisher shmudge to put it out (it was only the pan that was on fire, people. Just.The.Pan). And let’s not count the time I somehow made oatmeal so salty that my husband nearly gagged. No, no. These do not matter. They were a loooong time ago. I make good food these days, and I promise I have not experimented with the pyrotechnics in 5.5 years. But last week, the kitchen did not treat me well. Blame it on the tax man. Or the migraine and fever I’ve been fighting for the past two days. Yes, one of them has to be to blame… not me.

But just to be safe, I think I might hire a cook from now on.