Archive for the '"The Pot Licker"' Category

This Calls for Cupcakes

July 25, 2008 | Filed under: "The Pot Licker"

“Life is uncertain.  Eat dessert first. ” ~Ernestine Ulmer

It was about a month ago when I went to Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend and remarked that that trip had turned the LOSE YOUR SHIT switch in my head to the off position. And there it remained in the upright and locked position until the last several weeks slowly unraveled every lose thread in my brain. It’s as if there was that one tiny piece of string that begged to be tugged but once it was tugged there went a perfect hemline.

Since that weekend I’ve been to Denver, Chicago, San Francisco and I just left New Orleans. It’s that last trip that makes me bite my tongue when lamenting how hard my life is right now and how much stress I am under and how I’d really like to just bathe in a large bath of Swedish Fish while a butler fans me and brings me bottles of Peroni and beignets. Because if I want to see or feel hard, the people of the Gulf Coast of Louisiana can show me hard.

I go back to the Vineyard later this week during my mandatory vacation. I think it is forced upon us so that we don’t get all disgruntle and ornery or feel the need to take a swan dive into the Hudson with weights strapped to our ankles. The last time I went it was for my mother’s birthday and after she begged and pleaded with me to come out there, I brought with me a large bottle of Prosecco – her favorite – and a dozen lemon-raspberry cupcakes. Because love means willingly grating lemon peels for five hours and losing a knuckle in the process. It’s like please ignore the stubs of my once lovely fingers and enjoy the refreshing lemon flavor and the surprise bit of raspberry in the center. These are my new favorite cupcakes not just because they proved to my mother that I have other talents, besides being annoying as fuck. I think the only reason she won’t disown me now is because when she says JUMP, I say HOW HIGH and then provide her with goodies. I’ve been meaning to write about these for weeks because they are divine and easy to make and are a little bit of comfort and heaven topped with a fresh raspberry.

I think that right now I deserve cupcakes but after the last three weeks of enjoying French fries and beer as a meal, I’d much prefer a vat of lettuce, avocado and tomatoes. But I am totally not kidding about the Swedish Fish bath.

Lemon-Rasperry Cupcakes (from Epicurious) (Yields 12)

¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
3 cups powdered sugar, divided
4 ½ teaspoons finely grated lemon peel, divided
2 large eggs
1 ¼ cups self-rising flour
¼ cup buttermilk
4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, divided
12 tablespoons plus 1 tablespoon seedless raspberry jam
Fresh raspberries (for garnish)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees (F). Line 12 muffin cups with paper liners. Using electric mixer, beat butter, 1 ½ cups powdered sugar, and 3 teaspoons lemon peel in large bowl until blended, then beat until fluffy and pale yellow. Add eggs one at a time, beating to blend after each addition. Beat in half of flour. Add buttermilk and 2 tablespoons lemon juice; beat to blend. Beat in remaining flour.

Drop 1 rounded tablespoonful batter into each muffin liner. Spoon one teaspoon raspberry jam over. Cover with remaining batter, dividing equally.

Bake cupcakes until tester inserted halfway into centers comes out clean, about 23 minutes. Cool cupcakes in pan on rack. Meanwhile, whisk remaining 1 ½ cups powdered sugar, two tablespoons lemon juice, and 1 ½ teaspoons lemon peel in small bowl. Spoon half of icing over 6 cupcakes. Whisk one tablespoon raspberry jam into remaining icing. Spoon over remaining cupcakes. Let stand until icing sets, about 30 minutes. Garnish with raspberries.

These Soul Soothing Cookies

May 29, 2008 | Filed under: "The Pot Licker", Fotografias, Whoopdie Doo

“You could do a lot of good in the world with cookies” - Moose In the Kitchen

Way back in March-ish my dear friend Moose had a horrendous break up with her boyfriend of five years. It was one of those things that might have been looming but to the rest of us, those who loved her and read her regularly well I can say that we were shocked. I distinctly remember my heart breaking for her because at the time, I couldn’t imagine what that could feel like. Of course now that I know what it feels like, we’ve been commiserating via email for several weeks because misery loves company. And I like to hear myself talk. The end.

Moose has the great fortune of living in San Francisco with the other ladies who freelance. A group of women that I envy and am in awe of because of their talent and the way they can put a few words together to make an actual sentence whereas I just look at a blank Word document and get diarrhea of the brain. Everything comes out in nonsensical bullshit and what could be said in one sentence gets said in a rambly paragraph full of digressions. Case in point: READ ABOVE. Anyway she is one of those people that I genuinely like and enjoy. If you ask she will tell you all about that time she cried in the Chicago Children’s Museum and while Chris Jordan sat and did some motherly comforting for her, I just stood there all opened mouthed and said “Um OK. I’m gonna go now.” I totally score on being the understanding friend.

Anyway because I love and because she is such a nice and lovely person I did what anyone would do from 3,000 miles away; I offered to bake cookies. Then I gave myself a hearty pat on the back for being the good friend who bakes and overnights cookies from the other coast. Then little brown sugar fairies danced in my head as the possibilities were endless.

That was in March. March was like two months ago. And in that two month period I myself suffered the break up from Hell and because I generally get distracted by shiny things I kind of put my cookie baking to the wayside. For the record I am also that friend that will say “OH YEAH! I will totally do that random thing for you” and then when push comes to shove I’m that friend who you’d like to kick in the shins because I’m full of good intentions and zero action.

Several weeks ago I had the great pleasure of sitting across from Deb of Smitten Kitchen fame and I remembered that I had to bake cookies and since she was sitting right across from her I made nice conversation and then interrogated her on some cookie recipes. She in turn sent me the loveliest email full of cookies for me to bake and I had to purchase a new laptop because of all the damn drooling. (Note to self: Invest in a bib. Also an apron).

The recipe that caught my eye though was for Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies. Here is how I feel about the commingling of peanut butter and chocolate: It is like an orgasm for your taste buds. In fact after consuming the two put together in perfect harmony, your tongue hangs out of your mouth for a bit – inadvertently of course – searching around your lips and if your tongue is as long as mine, down to your chin trying to grab those last few drops. For surely there must be more and your tongue is programmed to search and destroy. And do not think for one instant that I’ve never taken a spoonful of Skippy, sprinkled chocolate chips on top and called it dessert for my ever refined palate.

I clearly remember Deb saying that these cookies were addictive and perhaps I should put them in the far recesses of my kitchen. I just nodded and said sure then baked one batch for my family with my seven year old cousin. Now my family does not see me as the baking type. They see me as the woman who would like things delivered to her doorstep and ‘from scratch’ is some foreign lexicon. ‘Hostess’ is a word I am familiar with. Well imagine the surprise and broad smile that came across my incredulous and curmudgeonly, Republican uncle’s face when he put my cookies to his lips. In fact he asked for seconds just to make sure they were there and were for real. My Aunt Rachel ate four and my no carbohydrate eating mother kept eyeing them in hopes that maybe they were carbohydrate-less and calorie free and possibly made of air.

With the first batch a success I then made a second batch for Moose’s Mouth ONLY. She received them yesterday and had to shove two cookies in her mouth so she could type an email to me as to their deliciousness. Then told me that I was awesome. Well, duh.

I made the cookies out of love and because it was the only thing I could do for her. And since I’ve been going through what I’ve been going through people have been offering (and I’ve been declining) baked goods because nothing makes another feel better like a fresh pie or a pan of brownies. Really it’s the thought that goes beyond words and says that there are friends out there, amazing people who want nothing more than for you to feel better and normal again. So they put out what effort they can to make something and do something that really can mean more than words. Which leads me to yesterday’s post and all the posts of sadness and agony before; the words do mean more than you can ever know and if you really want to send me something, package up some French fries and a giant bottle of wine and call it a day. Or you can be straight up Canadian and send me a box of Smarties and declare your undying love for me. Either way, I’m easy.

Peanut Butter Soul Soothing Chocolate Chip Cookies (yields 36)

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup peanut butter at room temperature (smooth is what we used, but I am pretty sure they use chunky at the bakery)
3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon (for sprinkling) sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1 large egg, at room temperature
1 tablespoon milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup peanut butter chips
1/2 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a large bowl, combine the flour, the baking soda, the baking powder, and the salt. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat the butter and the peanut butter together until fluffy. Add the sugars and beat until smooth. Add the egg and mix well. Add the milk and the vanilla extract. Add the flour mixture and beat thoroughly. Stir in the peanut butter chips. Place sprinkling sugar on a plate. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls into the sugar, then onto ungreased cookie sheets, leaving several inches between for expansion. Using a fork, lightly indent with a crissscross pattern, but do not overly flatten cookies. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes. Do not overbake. Cookies may appear to be underdone, but they are not.

Cool the cookies on the sheets for 1 minute, then remove to a rack to cool completely.

Eggnog; it’s not two words by the way

December 5, 2007 | Filed under: "Oh night divine", "The Pot Licker"

“Isn’t it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for - I don’t know what exactly, but it’s something that you don’t mind so much not having at other times.” ~Kate L. Bosher

In biology we were taught a lesson on fermentation. While my classmates were all fascinated by the possibilities of leaving a cup of juice out to make their very own Tropicana orange juice flavored alcohol, I was wholly unimpressed. For me biology meant cell reproduction and the formation of humans which put me on track towards a successful career in obstetrics and gynecology or perhaps midwifery if my mother got her way. Sadly, that line of work involved something like 17 years of schooling and homework and I am not really a sit down in a classroom type of person.. Nor am I person who enjoys thinking in absolutes, which is what following my deep-rooted passion of delivering babies would entail. This is how I ended up majoring in four social sciences, because I hated the fact that three plus three must equal six. Why can’t we think about it for a bit and maybe have several different answers that could all be correct? Why can’t everything be answered via loads of bullshit?

 

I didn’t like alcohol and that was ok because I had ten Judy Blume books to see me through the hard times like my lacking breast tissue and poor wardrobe. In time I made up for the former while the latter is still a little on the pathetic side. Before I go on another tangent about my cleavage vs. wardrobe issue, I’ll continue with my story about how I disliked alcohol and imagine my surprise when I learned that eggnog, the most delectable thing in the history of Holiday treats, had alcohol in it. No one identified what the alcohol in egg nog was so I spent years assuming that someone would dump a vat of Coors Light into my creamy bowl of love thereby ruining it forever with the disgusting taste of crappy beer.

Blah blah blah, I got some sense and literacy and now extol the virtues of grapes in their fermented form and I could write a book on the million and one things that alcohol could and should be added to just to make it taste a little better. I could also write a book composed of the world’s longest run-on sentences. But once again, I digress.

Alcohol, yes? I drink it but after several years of being so ill I thought I was hanging precariously to the threads of my short lived life due to hangover, I stopped drinking hard alcohol unless it’s Ketel One or Grey Goose vodka. I stick to wine for the most part and as of late, I pour a glass, take a sip and 10 minutes later I’m drooling into my flannel sheets. During college I learned the hard way about mixing several types of alcohol. All I’m saying is tread lightly. Sipping is the way to go once you combine brandy, rum and peach brandy. Hell, smell it and you’ll run to the nearest church basement for an AA meeting. But never fear because it’s chock full of deliciousness and you won’t even notice that you’ve consumed three types of alcohol and 800 calories in roughly 45 seconds.

The recipe is courtesy of Sheryl at Papernapkin and was actually intended for a tree-trimming event that I ended up missing because I was too busy trying not to physically harm drivers on the New Jersey turnpike. This vat of eggnog will be the first in several Holiday themed recipes. Feel free to thank me later and I’ll link to whomever posted the recipes first so that you know who to bill after your stint at rehab. Yields…um…several mug fulls of nutmegy goodness.

Eggnog:

12 eggs, separated

2 cups sugar

1 pint brandy

1/2 pint light rum

1/2 pint peach brandy

3 pints whole milk

1 pint heavy cream

Nutmeg (optional)

Beat the egg yolks and sugar together until thick. Slowly stir in the brandy, rum, peach brandy, milk and cream. Refrigerate until thoroughly chilled and pour into a punch bowl. Beat egg whites until stiff, and fold ever so gently into the eggnog. If you want to, grate a little nutmeg on top. If you take this to a Christmas party people will fawn over you, and you will be the hit of the party. And if not, you won’t care because you will be having a lovely lovely time all by your own self.

Betty Crocker panties

November 1, 2007 | Filed under: "The Pot Licker", NaBloPoMo

“Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon.” ~Doug Larson

Unintentionally my obsession with wine has abated. After years of coming home to sit down with a glass of pinot noir, I instead come home and just sit down and get stuff done. The amount that has been going on lately has left me exhausted and the whole opening of a bottle and finding a glass and then pouring it out is daunting. Really now, I wish I could find someone to hold the glass for me and bring it to my lips when needed. There is also the minor problem of no longer being able to kill two birds with one stone. The only fermented beverage sold in a grocery store is beer and though I enjoy Magic Hat, I’m not craving it every evening. Purchasing wine now requires more than one stop and there is no walking just driving and oh my god, the indolence.

Now, instead of drinking (at home. Alone.), I sleep or cook or watch “Tell Me You Love Me” and “Dexter”. I live this new exciting life that involves television and listening to Otis Redding while whisking or leaving the house (gasp!) to go to the movies. And no worries, I’ve already promised Danielle that I would start knitting after a project I’ve been working on is completed. This bodes well for what I expect to be the most excruciating winter in seven years.

I keep a word document of all the things I’d like to make. Anything that I’d like to roll around in gets highlighted but those things are becoming few and far between. This is where all seven of you haven’t run for the door after learning how damn boring I’ve become, will come in. I need recipes. These recipes can really be anything but must cater to my pescetarian needs. Which means – and I’m sure there will be tears because of this – no bacon. Please and thank you.

Red Velvet

October 30, 2007 | Filed under: "The Pot Licker", The object of my obsession

“Chocolate remedies adversity.” ~Jareb Teague

I hate linguini and spaghetti, but love fettucini and penne. There is something about the size and shape of the noodle, that keeps me from slurping up a bowl of spaghetti and marinara with fervor, but point me in the direction of farfalle with vodka sauce and I’m rolling around a carbohydrate filled bliss. Only recently have I noticed that shape and size dictate what I will and will not eat. I won’t eat sliced up carrot but will eat the stick version. I don’t like mashed potatoes but love mashed cauliflower yet will roll around in a vat of French fries and will vomit at the sight of raw cauliflower.

It didn’t reach real concern until recently when I wouldn’t eat cake and looked at a three layer chocolate cake with complete disgust. I suppose the size of most cakes seems unmanageable so I tend to be turned off by all of the layers and the frosting. Despite this anyone who has been reading this site for seven minutes will notice that I have a thing for cupcakes. Not just a minor little crush on cupcakes but an OMFG I’ll stop everything I’m doing to run out and get one…or four. I love cupcakes, because they’re small and bite sized and never imposing or constantly threatening to turn my butt into a pile of cellulite. I love that I can buy just one and be OK with what I have, which is a stark contrast to everything else in my life. Cupcakes make me happy.

Given how strong my love is for these sweet little treasures, I tend to leave the baking aspect to the pros or at least to someone who doesn’t feel like the need to inquire about adult supervision while baking. Because it was my birthday, I decided to test out baking much to the dubious laughter of my mother who kept repeating ‘from scratch?’ over and over again. I can understand her concern though given that the last time I used an electric mixer she was at the helm while I stood by her side waiting to consume what was left of the batter. My mother never has time to actually bake but when she does she makes chocolate melt in your mouth. I’m pretty sure that I did not inherit that gene and it’s the fear of being forced to consume something that tastes like paint chips and goat cheese is what precludes me from ever baking something I really like. It could either go really well and I could fondle my mixer or it could go really poorly and I could end up abhorring my beloved red velvet cupcakes.

I ended up with 36 – oh my God, no one ever needs 36 cupcakes. I brought them in for work and I don’t even know 36 people and yet they went rather quickly – perfectly made red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. Given my own misgivings about my baking and that I only had two (one to taste test and one the next day. I’m actually sick right now) I wouldn’t really say they were the best ever or that I didn’t get to work and shove one in my mother’s face and demand that she TASTE IT NOW before I ended up giving my coworkers salmonella. But word on the street is that they were excellent and here I was holding out hope that I didn’t end up with Cajun style cupcakes.

The recipe is from Smitten and was used to make a three-layer cake so I just went with it and like I said, got 36 cupcakes. I’m only one person and my roommate is training for a marathon so her diet has been consisting of fruit and vegetables, not chocolate dyed red.

Red Velvet Cake and Cream Cheese Frosting (anything in bold is my two cents)

Time: 90 minutes, plus cooling
Yield: 3 cake layers (32-36 cupcakes)

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
3½ cups cake flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa (not Dutch process)
1½ teaspoons salt
2 cups canola oil
2¼ cups granulated sugar
3 large eggs
6 tablespoons (3 ounces) red food coloring or 1 teaspoon red gel food coloring dissolved in 6 tablespoons of water
1½ teaspoons vanilla
1¼ cup buttermilk
2 teaspoons baking soda
2½ teaspoons white vinegar.

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place teaspoon of butter in each of 3 round 9-inch layer cake pans and place pans in oven for a few minutes until butter melts. Remove pans from oven, brush interior bottom and sides of each with butter and line bottoms with parchment.

2. Whisk cake flour, cocoa and salt in a bowl.

3. Place oil and sugar in bowl of an electric mixer and beat at medium speed until well-blended. Beat in eggs one at a time. With machine on low, very slowly add red food coloring. (Take care: it may splash.) (All over your counter and diswasher and cabinets) Add vanilla. Add flour mixture alternately with buttermilk in two batches. Scrape down bowl and beat just long enough to combine.

4. Place baking soda in a small dish, stir in vinegar (it’s like a science experiment!) and add to batter with machine running. Beat for 10 seconds.

5. Divide batter among pans, place in oven and bake until a cake tester comes out clean, 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool in pans 20 minutes. Then remove from pans, flip layers over and peel off parchment. Cool completely before frosting.

Cream Cheese Frosting
Adapted from several sources

Makes 6 cups

8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter room temperature
3 cups confectioner’s sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Place cream cheese and butter in a medium bowl. With a handheld electric mixer, beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add sugar and vanilla. Beat, on low speed to combine. If too soft, chill until slightly stiff, about 10 minutes, before using.