Spaghetti Pie visits IU...maybe I should take orders!

My daughter, Sophie, writes a blog also and it is wonderful to read..she shares about her life as a freshman college student.  (http://sophieguthrie.blogspot.com/)  Anyway, she posted my blog about her birth and the spaghetti pie on her blog.  I was just praying that my story would not have embarrassed her...it seems that anymore i am NOT COOL at all with my three teen girls, no matter WHAT i do!  So..you can imagine how thrilled i was that she was pleased enough with my piece that she posted it on hers.

Here's the Pie before it 'traveled'.

This in turn, meant that many of her friends read my blog...many of the girls on her floor in her dorm.  So a couple of days ago, i get a call from her saying that the "Harper 9 Girls" are requesting my Spaghetti Pie!  You know, dorm food is MUCH better now than when i was in college a million years ago...but it is still not home cooking no matter.  And you just don't realize how much those meals that mom made meant until you are gone.  Hey, isn't this what my blog is about...the memories of food through the ages???  So, as you can imagine i was thrilled to accommodate and maybe create a new fun memory for her by sharing that same recipe of Spaghetti Pie that was brought to my home when she was born. ( http://cook-my-way.blogspot.com/2011_01_01_archive.html)

My daughter, Abbie, who is a Senior in high school had planned to make an official college visit today to Indiana University...so i made the pie last night and it was transported with my husband and Abbie to college, along with some store bought valentine sugar cookies.  (I had full intention of sending what was left of the chocolate cake with butter cream frosting (the last blog), but didn't because i realized there were only about 3 slim slices left...and i didn't want this to be a source of fights...because this cake IS worth fighting over!)

So...a while ago, i get a call from Sophie.  I answer.  "Where's the cake?"  No hello, no nothing..just where's the cake!  I ask if she received the yummy sugar cookies with the icing on them and she replies..."You are avoiding the question...where is the cake?"  Ok..well sorry.  Hey..i made the huge pie, didn't i ?  Don't i get some credit for THAT?   Ok, ok...so now...my next visit to Indiana University will have me transporting that delicious cake.  I guess i can't blame her for being mad..it's a bazillion times better than those cookies! 

Once again...for all i do right, there is always something else that i didn't do!  Geesh!  Well, it's all good....and I'm just glad that she appreciates my cooking enough to request it.  So, here's to the girls of Harper 9 at Indiana University:  Bon appetite!

Some of the girls enjoying the Pie...thank you, Sophie for the pictures!




 

A Cake Full of Delicious Memories...to honor my friend.

I was recently reminded again about how foods can, with one bite, bring back such wonderful memories that may no longer live except within that food itself.  Each time a special food is prepared, it gives you a pass to go back in time as each bite brings back the family members, friends, visions, smells and sounds from the past.

  

My friend from college, 'Tom',  was telling me about his daughter's upcoming 15th birthday and how he was, with the help of his daughter, making this special birthday cake for her that his mother had  always made for him.  As he described this cake (which he claimed tasted like a delicious Oreo cookie), he painted the setting of his past family gatherings surrounding birthdays at his house as a boy. 

Julie and her uncle share the cake...a much fancier version, but the same cake.

Tom was the youngest of four brothers and one sister and his mother made a different 'favorite' cake for each of  them on their birthdays.  Celebrations were always designated on the Sunday closest to the birthday In order for the whole family to gather. The chocolate cake was the favorite of Tom and his father, and although i don't think he mentioned all the specific faves of the others,  he did share that two brothers really liked  some sort of a sweet yellow cake (resembling cornbread) that was served warm with a hot fudge topping.  Tom could never bring himself to try this yellow cake.... mostly because they reduced their pieces to a mashy mush (true boys!) and it would look like a brown kind of glop...so the end result didn't look so very appetizing.  (He did finally break down and try it in his later years, but claimed that it was definitely not even in the same class as the chocolate cake which was his!)

  The interesting  thing is that i asked Tom to tell me about a special birthday..maybe one in which he got a favorite gift.  After thinking for a few minutes, he replied that he really couldn't remember any gifts that made an impact...but only the cake, year after year.  That was the ultimate gift that his mom gave him...not the material things but the traditional cake that he loved so much which was made for him with love.  I wish kids today (and even adults) could understand this simple lesson.

 Now, i don't know exactly when his mother stopped making this cake...perhaps she made it when he would visit back home after he was grown and married.  And i am told that his wife did attempt to make it for him (at his request) on his birthdays from time to time...but somehow she was just not able to manage the cake without 'incidents' and stress.  Without further detail here...we will just say that each of her attempts were definitely NOT his mom's cake and eventually he took over the job of making his own birthday cake periodically. After a while (probably because it is no fun to make your own cake!), i think the recipe just got shoved to the back of the drawer.

Next, I asked how long he and his daughter had been making the cake and was surprised to hear that the cake had 'come back to life' at his house only in the last couple of years.  The funny thing is that his daughter took a cake decorating class for a short period of time and Tom actually went to a couple of the lessons too.  Well, when they found out just exactly what the ingredients were in the store bought cakes (lard, Crisco shortening, etc), THAT is when the recipe came out again!  I have to agree, that it is hard to imagine eating ingredients like that...no wonder our society has so many  problems with heart disease, etc! 

I think that as adults, we get so busy in life that we forget these wonderful memories...full of family, childhood hopes and dreams...sitting around a table with all of your siblings or fighting in the car when you would travel anywhere (which meant over 30 minutes).  We simply don't think and remember because we are so busy trying to be successful, getting married, raising our own kids...living the rat race.  These memories are the 'constants' in our lives:  the special meals and acts of love, and even dear friends and family members.  We knew they  would always be there year after year and we could count on them....but the reality is that we don't stay young forever and things change.  The lesson here is that these are the presents that mean the most in the very end.  The recipes of our lives often get shoved to the back of the drawer for a period of time.  But eventually, when we get them out and blow off the dust...it all comes flowing back.  The taste, sounds, laughter, happiness and sadness of how we grew up and loved.  I think it is wonderful to be able to pass on a special traditional recipe with our children and let them know the ingredients that make us US....which in turn, makes them who they are also.  True...they may not see the meaning behind it all now or appreciate it as much as we would like... and the recipe may be shoved to the back of the drawer again.  But just know that when it finally comes into the light again there will be a new appreciation and more stories will be added to the old.  This is about so much more than a chocolate cake with butter cream frosting...it is a delicious family memory that will never die if it is nurtured and passed on from one generation to the next.

Now, being the true 'foodie' that i am...i simply had to have the recipe so that i could make it and try it for myself.  The recipe is very easy, using all natural ingredients....and very, VERY good.  It gets 5 stars in my book!  This is a very dense chocolaty cake with dreamy, creamy buttery icing and will melt in your mouth.  You just have to try it to understand and appreciate.

Many thanks to my friend, 'Tom' for sharing this wonderful recipe with me....and wishing him a very Happy Birthday on March 1!  (Wonder what he will have to celebrate?)

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Betty's  Chocolate Cake with Butter Cream Frosting

For a single 9x9 pan:   (Double recipe if you want a two layer cake)

Mix together: 

1/4 Cup butter, softened at  room temp
1 Cup sugar
1 egg
 2- 1 ounce squares of unsweetened chocolate, melted

Sift together:

1-1/3 Cup flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
Add to mixed ingredients.

Slowly add:
1 Cup boiling water
1 tsp. pure vanilla

Mix until smooth, texture may seem thin.

Bake for 23-30 minutes in a greased, floured pan.  Done when toothpick comes out clean.


ICING:  (This makes plenty to ice a single layer in the pan)

1 stick of butter, softened at room temperature
2 Cups of powdered sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla
A very small amount of milk if needed

Cream together with a spoon or mixer..Add a slight bit of milk to obtain the proper texture.  Make sure the cake is cool before frosting it!

Pie is in the Eye of the Beholder....and then some!

Sometimes, the simplest offering can mean years of memories…in kindness, appreciation, and taste.  I made a recipe the other night that came to my house the very first time as a kind gesture and dinner after I delivered my first baby 19 years ago.  At the time, I was fortunate to belong to a sorority in our town and the group of women that year were many of my very good friends.  One of the committees prepared meals for ‘sisters’ who needed meals for one reason or another…one person would make a side dish, another the main meal, and another the dessert.  I had participated many times, but this was the first time I was a recipient and I didn’t realize how much it meant until that evening.

Often a first pregnancy, no matter how much you think you know (I’d worked for an OB-GYN doc in my earlier years for about 5 years), or how many books you read…..well, when it is YOU, you know nothing!  This was obvious when, at about 6 months into my pregnancy, on January 16, 1992,  I had severe pain and some contractions.  My doc was in Indianapolis…about an hour from my home.  I had spent all day there, hooked up to all kinds of contraptions and monitored.  Finally the contractions ended with no reason to explain any of it.  But I was allowed to go home.  On the drive back, we stopped and ate….and by the time I got home I was feeling a little uncomfortable.  I chalked this up to anything and everything associated with pregnancy. 

I decided to take a bath to help ease my pain.  About 10 minutes into the bath, I realized that something was really wrong.  To make a long story short…I was having very close contractions and was very close to delivery.  To make matters worse, there was an ice storm going on (much like a night like we are having tonight in Indiana!) and there was not even time for an ambulance.  So, into my husband’s big truck I went…and off we went to the town hospital (which, by the way, was NOT my hospital or where my doctor practiced.

What happened afterwards was a series of events that could only happen on a TV sitcom.  My husband pulled up to the ER and proceeded to walk me in…and of course, we told them it was an emergency situation but apparently, no one took me very serious since this was my first pregnancy (first pregnancies take longer in most situations).  Questions, questions..Insurance stuff…sitting in wheel chair on my SIDE (HELLO…because I am beginning to deliver!)  Meanwhile, my husband was told his truck would be towed if not moved, so off he goes while the two nurses zip me to the labor/delivery ward in the other part of the hospital.  As they are rattling on about this great recipe for a meatloaf (yes, I still remember that!) I am desperately trying to tell them about the events of the day…and that I could possibly be sitting on my baby’s head!  The professional response I got was, ‘Oh honey, it will all be ok…this is your first one’…and then back to the green peppers and make sure the grease is drained…!

Well, of course when they began to put me on the exam table and put a lovely unflattering (hey, a girl's got to look her best!) hospital gown on me, the ever so enlightening comment was,  ‘Oh my God!  You have started to deliver!’   Umm….like, really?  Do ya think so??  And of course, the doctor on call (whom I cannot say too much bad about because he was my dear friend’s father) continued to eat his dinner at home..Not wanting to be disturbed because it was my FIRST delivery (which should take HOURS!)

  Needless to say, I had the fastest natural delivery on earth…so fast I don’t think there was even any pain.  THAT was the good thing.  The bad thing was that my daughter was 3 months premature and after blowing dust off the incubator (yes, the hospital was that impressive); they decided to have her rushed to Riley Children’s hospital in Indianapolis…some 50 miles away.  I had to stay and she had to go.  It was a nightmare. 

Now, the other things that were pretty funny (well, not then…but at least now) was that my poor husband couldn’t find me and no one knew where I was (shouldn’t they know where a pregnant woman who is delivering should go???).  Honestly, it happened so fast…I’m not sure he was even there.  I think I need to go ask him now...  My husband’s parents were called and were on their way to provide support….only his dad was having some intestinal testing done the next day and had orders to take laxatives in preparation so, he was stuck in a certain room of their house and not able to leave.  So my Mother-in-law came and by the time she got to the hospital, they were taking baby Sophie to Riley.  My husband left to go with the baby and my mom-in-law reluctantly stayed with me…let’s just say I was not her first choice.  Well... it's the truth!  ;-)

It took me just about 9 hours until I realized I was NOT staying any longer…it was now around 6am and I checked myself out against medical orders and my mom-in-law and I left.  And by the way, I should tell you for the record that my own mother was meanwhile enjoying  herself in her condo at Ft. Lauderdale, Florida…although I know for a fact she would not have attended to my needs at the hospital because she is ‘not a hospital kind of person’!  I could say more here, but I am choosing not to...you just gotta know how she is.  And hey, I’d choose Ft. Lauderdale over this too!

As we headed out of town towards Indianapolis, I realized I was famished…and asked to stop at the local little dive breakfast place to eat first.  It was 6am and I swear that only very old people were there that morning…maybe they had a special on shredded wheat and oatmeal, I don’t know.  But regardless…when the waitress asked how we were, I replied that I was sure I was the only one in the room that delivered a baby last night and that I would like the BIG MAMMA platter!  She looked at me like...oh yeah, right.  So I swear, that was the best meal I ever had…and ate it in about 5 minutes flat.  Ok, again....in retrospect, maybe i was just hungry!

My little baby was very fortunate..She was able to go to a wonderful children’s hospital and Riley literally saved her life.  Fortunately she was a whopping 3 lbs, 4 oz…which is a very good weight considering she was 3 months premature.  Yes, she had breathing problems and other issues too…but three months later, she was able to come home with the help of an apnea machine, respiratory treatments, medications, and a visiting nurse.  When it was all said and done and after looking at the paperwork of bills from the hospitals that we needed for our insurance company, she was indeed EASILY the million dollar baby.

I’m proud to say that she currently is in her first year at Indiana University and excelling there.  The thing that is really neat is that she actually participated in a dance marathon for Riley Children's Hospital and raised $500 with the help of friends and relatives.  Aside from that,  she interviewed recently and earned one of the 44 positions for the planning committee of this huge event for next year"s event. (This is the second largest student-run philanthropy to raise more than $1 million for Riley in the nation)  She is only one of three freshmen in the group and her determination is remarkable.  I’m pretty sure on the application there was no mention of a spaghetti pie…but one of the questions asked if she had a ‘Riley Story’.  How about…Riley saved my life.



Sophie

Ok..So enough storytelling and back to the spaghetti pie.  My point to this whole thing is the very first line of this blog.  Sometimes it is the smallest gesture that can mean the most to folks.  That pie was the best thing ever that evening.  I remember that Sophie had just come home and I was exhausted with all the night feedings, not to mention all the treatments and medications.  I was cranky and the last thing on my mind was cooking. To this day, each time I prepare it, I am amazed that it is not only a very simple dish to prepare but also very delicious and satisfying.  And I remember how much I appreciated having this meal on that evening….  and how very  fortunate and blessed we were for having a healthy baby girl in the end.  But most important also was how grateful i was to have such a loving and caring group of friends. So, along with this story about Sophie, I am sharing the recipe.  Share this with a friend in need, an elderly neighbor, or make it as a surprise for someone who is special to you.  Leave a tasty memory  of love for someone else….and pay the spaghetti pie forward.   I hope you make it soon!

Spaghetti Pie  (my version – of course it has been ‘tweeked’ to perfection!)

Ingredients:

                *9 ounces spaghetti

                *4 tablespoons butter

                *½ C. parmesan cheese

                *3 eggs (well beaten)

                *1 ½ C. cottage cheese

                *1 ½ lbs. ground beef or Italian sausage, or combination of both

                *¾ C. chopped onions

                *½ C. green peppers or mushrooms (or both!) – optional

                *1 (12 ounce) can of diced tomatoes

                *1 jar (26 ounce) of really good spaghetti sauce – I like the three cheese kind

                *1 tablespoon of Italian seasoning or 1 ½ tsp. of oregano

                *2 cloves of garlic, chopped  (please note that a clove is NOT a whole head…I have a friend that    made a very potent pizza sauce when he did not understand this simple fact!)

                *¾ C. mozzarella cheese, shredded.

Directions: 1- Cook spaghetti as directed, drain and set aside. (I break the spaghetti in half)

2- Mix together melted butter, parmesan cheese, and eggs….then add to cooled spaghetti and mix really well.

3- Line a greased 9x13 baking dish or a really big deep dish pie pan with the spaghetti mixture, pressing to make a crust.

4- In a separate big pan, fry hamburger or sausage with onion, garlic, green peppers until brown – drain off grease.  Add mushrooms if desired and mix.

5- Add rest of ingredients and mix well…heat thoroughly.

6- Pour meat mixture on top of spaghetti mixture and spread evenly over top.

7- Bake in 350 degree oven for 30 minutes, adding cheese at last 7 minutes or until melted and bubbly.

               

Boeuf a La Mode....the real lesson.

Well, friends, it has been a while since I wrote anything here….and for my faithful five followers (at least I have some!) and others who have enjoyed my entries…I sincerely apologize for the lack of devotion to this blog the last several months.  Truth of the matter is that I had a full time job for those months…and sadly, it did not work out.  But I am back to cooking and writing, and ….<sigh>….looking for another job!

Midlife is a funny kind of thing.  It seems like when you hit your 50’s you start rethinking your whole life.  What I should have done, could have done, would have done….if only this or that had happened.  And to make matters worse, I’ve been listening to a lot of Dan Fogelberg lately.  Geesh…don’t do that if you are even mildly depressed!  (I swear that every one of his songs were written about me and lost loves!)  So, when I want to get my mind off of things and fill my time with something productive…what do I do??  Cook, my friends!  Cooking is my therapy.  No talking required, only skill and concentration with a lot of reward in the end….and the only cost is for the ingredients.  I guarantee it is less expensive then laying on the couch and blabbing to the professional…and much more filling!

Dusting off the Julia Child’s Cookbook with one hand and  a 4.5 pound rump roast in the other hand, I decided to make the Boeuf a La Mode (braised beef in wine).  Warning here:  If you don’t have all day to cook, do not attempt!  This recipe is a good two pages in her cookbook and takes about 5 hours, not counting the marinade or the time spent drinking the wine…kidding.  Ummmm…it’s not a little deal.  You better have good music to cook by (I would not recommend Dan Fogelberg unless you want tears in your sauce.).

So, Kim…(I ask myself), why would you want to spend all day in the kitchen slaving over a recipe???  Five hours!  Well…yes, I like to cook…but that is a long time.  Like a full day’s work.  And the pay?  Well, …I guess the pleasure my family gets from experiencing a wonderful meal (French, at that!).   But then, I started thinking….

I think the thing that pulled me  and kept me in was the anticipation of getting to taste something that could take  so much time and effort to make.  I mean…it literally kept me going.  Anything  that you have to work so hard at  and takes soooo long to prepare…  Well, it surely must be something  wonderful, even magical.  And then,  suddenly…it was no longer about the recipe.  It was about this very simple life lesson we have all heard growing up:  The very best things in life are worth waiting for and working for.  Now, this applies to love, relationships, education, and careers….everything!   And just as I am lately looking at my life reflecting and regretting or rethinking,  I suddenly see a positive to this whole thing.  Sometimes the very best thing can come towards or at the end…and when it comes, the appreciation is much greater and even love is enhanced to a different level.  Sometimes….the best things don’t always happen in our youth, but in later years.  Sometimes it is not about the now…but about the later.   Yeah, this recipe kind of hit it home.  I could have made my usual  rump roast recipe in the oven (which, by the way is still great!).  But I did the work…took the time…and found out that the results of my hard work and patience were all worth it in the end.  The melt in your mouth satisfaction.  That is what I want in life too…the melt in my mouth satisfaction.  GREAT things are worth the work, the pain, the patience, and the time.  Nothing good happens in a 30 minute dinner in a bag or box scenario.  Sometimes recipes can teach us the strangest things….but this one hit home with me.

So…I enjoyed the wonderful meal because it not only tasted so good…but my heart was wrapped around this recipe in a new way by reading between the lines and applying it to my life.  I hope this makes some sense  to you all.  But if not, it’s ok.  Because I get it and I’m better with myself tonight for it.

Autumn, Chicken Soup, Turnips, and me....Oh MY!!!

So, it’s starting to get a fall chill to the air in Indiana…finally  after one of the longest Indian summers I can remember.  The leaves have turned beautiful crayola colors and most are on the ground now.  The past weekend I was able to witness the full effects of fall back in Bloomington, my college stomping ground located in southern Indiana (for those of you not familiar).  My friend, ‘Jane’ (ok, names have been changed for my blog's sake...you know, protect the innocent, blah, blah...) and  I took a drive towards Nashville, Indiana…a very ‘artsy’ little community tucked away most of the year until fall arrives and then it explodes with tourists.  People come from all over Indiana to experience this smaller version of Gatlinburg, Tennessee.  There are artisans of various trades, country home-style foods, roasted nuts and fudge, antiques, and unfortunately lots of junky t-shirt and souvenir stores.  (Another unfortunate similarity to Gatlinburg).  We walked and looked at all of the handcrafted items…leathers, wood carvings, pottery, photographers, paintings, beadwork, blown glass, crystals, hand painted furniture, home made goods of all kinds.   local potter..doing his thing.. Funny thing is that while most people like to enjoy simply looking through the shops, Jane and I seem to enjoy hearing people’s stories about what brought them to do their works of art....yes, we have the gift of gab and curiosity.  We talked to an older woman in her shop who had been taking beautiful photographs of the area for many, many years…  As she framed and wrapped one of her beautiful fall scenery pictures for a customer, she told us her story.  In a nutshell, she had not always done photography…but was in an accident that prevented her from making a living and disabled her.  She was asked to take some pictures for a family member’s social function and discovered that she, with the help of the camera, had an eye for capturing people, nature, etc, through photography.  That she enjoyed pleasing others with her pictures and that is how it began for her.  In her case, when she thought that all hope was lost and the door was closed permanently….she discovered that it was only the beginning of a new and better life.  One that she enjoyed now, instead of going day after day to a job that was not nearly as rewarding to her.  I realized that her story could also be mine (or many others like me)….and I took it to heart.  At the age of 51, I have felt in so many ways that I have lost myself by taking care of others for so many years.  Mind you, I will never regret taking the time to raise my family and being a ‘stay at home’ mom (even when it was not so easy from time to time).  Those years that my husband and I willingly chose for me to spend at home have paid off for my girls 100%.  But…now, I have felt many times that I have wasted time…should have been building my career…should have, could have….helping financially and having the self worth that goes along with the contribution to a family.  Sure…I did laundry, helped with homework, volunteered at the girls’ schools, and did crafts until I was literally covered in paint and glue!   I go back and forth in my mind, rethinking the past.    And now, I think….What can I do at the age of 51 and how can I start now when it is so late?  Let alone to find something that makes me happy,  is enjoyable, or rewarding for me, personally.  I related to this woman.  She was there.  Her door had closed…but had it???  Like they say…”When one door closes, another opens”.  She is an amazing example of this saying.    She was able to press the‘re-do’ button and was now doing what she loved most.   The other thing that I deciphered from her story is that happiness and success  isn’t all about money or prestige that people strive for …or the mass of material things.  The more expensive the better…the person with the most money at the end wins!!   No, not true and certainly not true for her.  She had made a good income before…but now, even though she appeared to have a successful shop, her income was not consistent and certainly not guaranteed (they don’t call artists ‘starving’ for nothing!).  Her reward was that of pleasing others and bringing happiness to them through her photographs….much better than the membership at the country club or the designer labels in the closet.   That, my friends, is the price of happiness at your own pace.  Living a simpler life…appreciating your environment, friends, lovers, spouses, children and life in general.  Wow…think of all the people that simply walked into her shop and looked and perhaps either bought something or not.  Honestly, they went out empty handed if they did not talk to her.  Jane  and I walked out the door with a few life lessons…much more than something in a bag, don’t you think? The ride back was sooo enjoyable…the sights and smells of fall…my senses were overwhelmed.  On top of it all…a full moon.  I reflected about the story of the woman..I reflected on my story.  Everyone has a story.  As the moon glowed from above, I realized that just like this blog…I am able to write my own story.  Able to create my own self.   Able to begin again anew.   That this is MY time and I am the only one  who  can make my life happen and change for the better. Full moon in Bloomington The next day…I took a trip back to the same Farmer’s market where I got my coffee that I wrote about in my previous blog post.  Just as the last time, there was much activity…people buying, people looking, entertainers, and even a couple of politicians (who, by the way, looked like they were 16).  Yes, I got my coffee again and looked over the veggies..  ohhhhhhh, so many beautiful varieties!!!!  I have never seen so many peppers in my life…some hot, some sweet, some red or green…some purple even.  And salad greens…many kinds I have never heard of.  This place is truly a chef’s dream come true.  I knew I had to buy something…..But what?  I wanted it all!!!  So, with much thought, I finally decided on two vegetable items.  One being the most beautiful peppers I have ever seen…their shapes were so imperfect (which I love!) and the colors so pronounced.  If they tasted as good as they looked, I would be in heaven!   The second veggie was three bunches of turnips.  Go ahead…make fun of me!  (I can hear you gasping…WHY!!!?)  These turnips are not your standard kind of tasteless rubber balls you buy at your local grocery.  There were, as like the other types of veggies, different varieties to choose from I had never seen before.  Who knew turnips could be so fascinating!  I settled for some beautiful white, tender turnips and left the place thinking I was the luckiest girl ever.  Ok...i guess things have changed drastically for me  because had I known 30 years ago that a vegetable could make me so happy….well, I would be very disappointed in this simple fact!  And that’s all I’m gonna say about that! Sooooo…in honor of my weekend and the beautiful fall weather, and the beautiful turnips I bought… I made a wonderful comfort soup for our dinner last night…not simply good for your soul (as the books claim), but good for whatever life hands you.  Make this with someone you love, for someone you love… and eat it with someone you love…and you will forget  about  all of your troubles for sure.  It will warm your heart and renew your spirit.  I promise.  And let the turnip be the new surprise in a very predictable soup….read between the lines and you will understand what I mean.    Recipe follows…and by the way, if you make it…I want to hear about it!

Served to you with a great big perma smile on my face!

Kim’s BEST Chicken 'Surprise' Soup                              

 

Ingreds:

·         3 lg chicken breasts, preferably bone in (but remove skin)

·         2 boxes good chicken broth (about 4-6 cups) *

·         ¾ Tbsp thyme

·         ¾ Tbsp sage

·         1 Tbsp parsley

·         1 cup chopped Carrot

·         1 cup chopped Celery (tops included)

·         ½ large onion, chopped

·         1 med. White turnip, cubed

·         ½ stick butter

·         About ¾ cup of frozen corn or peas…or both

·         About 1/3 or more (depending on how many noodles you like) of a lb. bag of Amish style noodles *

In large soup pan, combine chicken breasts, 1 box of broth, thyme, and sage.  Bring to slow boil and simmer slowly until very tender….about 45 mins.  Prep veggies while chicken is cooking.

Remove chicken onto plate with slotted spoon.  To the pot of broth, add veggies and butter….bring to simmering boil until veggies are tender.    After veggies are tender… (once chicken is cool enough to work with) take chicken off bone (it should fall off if it is tender) and tear small pieces with your hands…do not cut with knife.  Add back to pot, along with frozen corn and peas, parsley, and 2^nd box of broth plus about 2 cups of water (depending on how ‘thick’ you like your soup).  Bring back to slow boil.

Add noodles and cook until tender.  Salt and pepper to taste.  Serve with good crisp Italian or French bread….or good crackers.

***** To make this recipe Gluten Free, make sure to use gluten free chicken broth and use gluten free shell or spiral pasta.

That Old Black Magic and Me

Coffee is that magical black liquidy stuff that I cannot live without at the beginning of each of my days.  If I skip a day and something happens and I miss coffee, a headache (caffeine deprivation) will ensue and generally, I will just feel like I’m in a big slump all day.  This morning, as I sit here with my first cup of coffee, I’m thinking all about the feelings that go with it…and the memories that are attached to it…and the friendships involved with it.

A couple of weeks ago, I took my daughter to IU to visit with her sister who is an attending freshman.  Although it was ‘their weekend’ to spend time together, it was fine as I had some plans of my own which involved meeting IU college friends from about 30 years ago.  The two drinks of choice in a college town involve alcohol and caffeine…this has been true for many, many years!  (One will sometimes follow the other!)   Anyway, on Saturday morning…I found myself with my friend walking around a farmer’s market in downtown Bloomington.  It was a very cool morning and was raining.  There was much hustle and bustle of people carrying their market bags and buying fresh produce.   Oh… for someone like me, who loves to cook…it was heaven!   The most beautiful garden varieties of vegetables and fruits were to be found in this holy place!  As we walked, enjoying the sights and sounds of the morning we could not help but to wander into the most heavenly  scent of coffee…drifting through  the produce, people, breads, and flowers.  Mmmmmm… and voila!  There it was: The Bloomington Coffee Roaster’s booth…soooo many kinds, who could possibly choose??  Of course, two cups were ordered and we went about the task to try to choose some to take home.  One kind caught my eye…it was named ‘Good Day’.  Hmmmm…well, today (despite the rain) was a good day!  I was with a good friend, we were having a great time, and we would be enjoying the day at an IU football game with the rest of our group.  Then I looked at the description of the ‘Good Day’ coffee.  “Coffee for your Conscience”.  What does THAT mean??

According to Wikipedia, the definition of Conscience is “an aptitude, faculty, intuition, or judgment of the intellect that distinguishes right from wrong.”  So I ask, what the heck does this have to do with coffee?  Is coffee a moral drink???  Will I be judged for drinking it??  Perhaps it could mean that many, many important decisions from people in all walks of life…poor, rich, students, business people, mothers, presidents, priests, etc.. …..that perhaps everyone has pondered important stuff over a simple cup of Joe.  Also more than that, it is a very social drink…and is often shared in all types of situations.  Celebratory events, receptions, parties, business meetings, family gatherings, friendships, and holidays…just to name a few.  If you go into a coffee shop, look at the tables…look at the people.  What are they talking about??  Maybe the day, maybe upcoming events, or maybe some life changing decisions….who knows.  All of this over coffee.  Hmmmm…maybe it IS magical.  

As I type this…I’m trying to remember when I first put this rich, black (get me up and going) liquid to my lips.  And yes, I like it black…nothing to ruin the great flavor that God gave to the almighty coffee bean.  I’m pretty sure I began drinking it when I entered college at Ball State University. And I am pretty sure I did not appreciate it much at all and that the only reason why I ‘threw it down’ was in order to stay up late to study.  Any crappy brand would have sufficed…and honestly, I did not care much at all as long as it helped me keep my eyeballs open.  It’s a drink you don’t just start drinking and say….Oh my!!!  This tastes soooo good!!!!  It’s an adult drink that you learn to like and appreciate…and you either acquire a taste for it or you don’t.  As the years went on, I learned to love coffee and I think it may love me too.

Through the years, I think I have owned about  4, 0865 coffee makers…all of them broke or gave out on me.  Not that it was my fault; I just think they couldn’t take the demand!  Ok…well, maybe one was my fault when I left it on and it burned up…!   My coffee maker of choice currently is one that I actually bought at the local Good Will Store.  It’s an incredible retro-vintage stainless steel electric perk.    (I say that smiling because everything I own or used to own is now called ‘retro-vintage’!)  This thing is like the Timex watch that ‘keeps on ticking’.  It, for sure, keeps on perking no matter what and I am very sure it will be my faithful friend until I can no longer drink coffee…but that day will never come!  And, oh yes..I went through all the stages of a coinsurer of  coffee….flavored, Italian, French, morning blends, dark, med, light…drip, strained, perked, whole beans, ground beans, hot or cold.   Now-a-days, coffee is a cool trend…and people order drinks that have at least 5 or 6 syllables like.. Mochalotatomatos,  double triple espressos (I don’t recommend this..Unless you have about 23 books that you need to speed read), frappacinos, something, something something…etc.  (No, I don’t go to Starbucks often and if I do, I get a plain coffee for fear of the unknown..Ha!).   It is a cool place to go…to the coffee place.  I wonder if people go there because they really WANT coffee or because they want to look like they want coffee??  Hmmmm.  And they have all these big, comfy chairs and lounges…and internet usage so perhaps you need coffee just to stay awake while there.   They also offer cute snackie thingies like little Italian biscuits, fancy crackers and cookies, and muffins that could feed a family of four.  You have to wonder what the point is to coffee with all of this.  Again…Hmmmm…

 

Well, back to the ‘Good Day’ coffee.  I love this…not only is it wonderful and flavorful coffee, but I have the fun memory of picking it out with my dear friend and laughing about the names and labels of the coffees that day.  And I get to enjoy it every day and think of my friend and know that my day will be great, if only for that one single memory.  (And by the way, I have no guilty conscience about drinking it at all!)

Popcorn Revelations

Last week, my youngest daughter was wanting popcorn.  Normally she eats a whole regular microwave bag each day after she gets home from school.  This day was no different…except we were out of it.  Instead of going to the store and buying more (because I was feeling a little lazy), I decided to make some the ‘old fashioned’ way…on the stovetop.  Now, I’ve done this from time to time…simply because there is nothing EVER as good as popcorn made this way.  I will never forget the first time I made it like this for my kids.  They were amazed that the tender kernels could come from such hard little seeds…changing shape and texture within the ‘magic pan’.  It was the best thing ever and they could not believe that there was ever life before microwave cooking!

When I was at IU, I used to drive to see my Grandma Lawson who lived a hour or so further south in a small coal mining town called Dugger.  Just to tell you how small this town is (or was when I was there last)…it consisted of a little ‘ Mom and Pop’ grocery, a post office (where my Grandma had been the post master for many years), and a saloon (every town needs one, I suppose!).  I would drive my 1977 chevy camero with the backseat completely packed with my dirty laundry!  When I arrived, Grandma would start the laundry and begin talking about all the good food we would have…”Oh, Kimmy…we are going to such a fun party tonight!!”  Please note that the ‘fun parties’ never included anyone except the two of us…but that was just fine with me.   Ahhhhh….there would be the freezer pizza (I guess she thought I loved this since I was a college kid)  which she always doctored up and always cooked in her gas oven…and the popcorn perfection which I can still taste in my mind to this day.  The drink was always a big glass of her iced, sweet tea and I can still hear the ice cubes tinkle as she carried them in the room.  I can vividly remember the ‘feast’ on her coffee table as our ‘party’ began.  We would watch Lawrence Welk, tv specials, or movies.  All the while TRYING to watch, I would hear the latest Hollywood gossip as if Grandma knew these stars personally!  Ohhh that John Denver was the nicest young man to his wife and loved her so dearly…..and  wasn’t Robert Redford the most handsome man ever???  (ummmm….YES!)  

By day two, I was biting my nails and waiting for the last load of laundry to be finished so I could head back for some ACTION!!!  This feeling was recently recalled when my daughter Sophie, an IU freshman  came home for the first time since leaving for ‘the weekend’.  My poor husband picked her up on Friday and she brought every piece of laundry possible for me to wash!  By evening,  we were all watching tv  and meanwhile, the whole time she was glued to her laptop and chatting on Facebook.    After many heavy sighs, she finally looked at us and asked, “ Is this what you people do in the evenings???  Watch TV??”  ( Ummm…yeah, it is…and I recall just as recent as last year and summer that you were sitting with us watching too!  Ha!)  By the next afternoon, my husband was driving her back to IU.  Eight hours of combined travel time.  Well, that’s what you do, I suppose.  The funny thing is that everyone was a little upset that she was leaving (and wanted to leave) so soon……except for me.  I remembered and relived that very same feeling…wanting to get back to IU and my boyfriend…and all the fun! 

Back to the popcorn.  I have the most disgusting looking pan called my ‘popcorn pan’.  It is a mismatched old Club roaster pan with lid.  Don’t ask me how I got a brown pan with a pink lid but it is what it is.  This came from Grandma’s and is what she made her popcorn in.  So…here are my questions:  1)  How in the world could anything so good come out of anything so ugly  …and  2)  How can these hard little seeds  turn into the most tender, delicious treat ever.

The last two weeks have been so horrible for me.  I lost a dear, long time friend to suicide.  And this week, I lost my youngest brother also…in fact, In just a couple hours i will be going to his visitation.  As I thought about the popcorn, it occurred to me that we all start out as these tough little seeds and how we turn out depends on a lot of things.  You can look at the ugly pan and think nothing good could ever come out of it…but surprise!  By the time you open the lid, the hard seeds are replaced by the tasty, tender kernels.

People and loved ones are a lot like this.  A person can be pretty hard on the outside and it takes a lot of different life experiences and growing to hopefully change them into a caring, soft human.  You have to be generous with love (like the oil) to get them to come out.   But no matter what the environment or how ugly the pan…if the circumstances are right, ( just like the ingredients and temperature)…a wonderful soul will come out.  However, sometimes no matter what…there are those kernels that refuse to change.  Well, what can I say…no one likes them and they eventually go in the trash.   We are all capable of bringing out that tender stuff on the inside.  Life is too short. 

I got the opportunity to make peace with my dying brother and tell him I loved him.  I didn’t get an opportunity to see or talk to my friend for some time….and how I wish I had.  Some things you can never take back…and some people can make your life miserable (the seeds that never pop).  But it is all how we choose to carry on after the fact and deal with our situations…good or bad. 

If you are still reading this..i’m surprised…a lot of deep stuff here.  This post was more for me, therapy…to help me today.  Dealing with the losses and unfortunately an ignorant family member who has a mission to hurt me as much as possible.  The popcorn is a reminder for me today to look beyond the hard seeds and kernels and remember the possibilities of a warm heart and future acts of kindness and love.

Ps.  This post is dedicated to my dear caring friends who have been there for me through everything…. And also to Bob, who encouraged me to blog.  A million thanks…