Pumpkin Pretzels

During my difficulties last fall with measuring pumpkins, I ended up with 2/3 C puree leftover and thawed, and in urgent need of use.  The last time something like that happened, I made some experimental pumpkin bagels, which were ok, but not extraordinary.  I was going to do that again, mainly because I wanted bagels, when I decided to make pretzels instead.

How those monks thought this looked like children's hands praying, I'll never know.  I suspect some of that famous German beer was involved.

I'd made pretzels before.  Mine puff up an awful lot, so you really get pretzel-shaped sandwich buns, but... how is that a problem?

But there was still a problem.

I've made it clear that I'm not a pro, and I'm not an expert.  That's the whole point.  My aim is not to impress people with what I can do, but impress upon them what they can do.  That's why I'm willing to share some failures here, as well.

Not that these pretzels were a failure, mind you--they were damn tasty pretzels.  You just couldn't tell they had any pumpkin in them, and if you can't tell it happened, then why do it?

Since this formula is not worth replicating, I'm not posting how I did it here, but I'll still show you the pictures, and I promise that sometime--maybe before this post goes live during my hike--I'll make pretzels again, and post that recipe instead.

Pass the mustard and get out of my way.

The right way to make sour cream cookies

The Chief Taster (and one of her co-workers) make fun of me for the notes I left myself in my chocolate chip cookie compendium.  Generally they are either remarks on the quality of results, or process notes.  Page 80, Mocha Dreams, has both: "12-14-12 use hand to mix. very good."  I also like to write the date of when I first made them, so I can track whether it's something I've already posted, in case I do something silly, like start a food blog.

They both got a kick out of page 44, Big-Batch Cookies, whose recipe recommends greasing the cookie sheets.  ("no need to grease my sheets"), but my personal favorite margin comment is on page 73, Honey Chocolate Chip Cookies ("These cookies make me sad.").

Page 77 ("Bad") was a finalist in the cookie competition which spawned the book, but I prefer the other sour cream recipe, found on page 78 ("GREAT!").  In fact, I originally started leaving myself notes in this book specifically to make sure that when I made sour cream chocolate chip cookies, I always used the second recipe, not the one which the judges found to be superior.  Perhaps they got to these entries after the section which involved alcohol-based cookie recipes?

Tricia's Sour Cream Chocolate Chip Cookies
2-2.5 C flour
1 t baking powder
1/2 t baking soda
dash of salt
3/4 C plus 2 T sugar
1/2 C butter, melted
1 egg
1/2 C sour cream
1 t vanilla (do you still measure vanilla?  I can't remember the last time I did.  I just like to dump it in until I feel happy)
2 C chocolate chips

1. Preheat oven to 375F
2. Cream sugar and butter in large bowl.  (Cream is a verb here--be aware)  Add egg, mix well.  Add sour cream, stirring to remove any lumps.  This should be very homogeneous.  Add vanilla.  Add 1 C flour with the baking powder, baking soda, and salt.  Add remaining flour gradually, "until semi-firm but smooth consistency is obtained."  If you've made chocolate chip cookies before, you'll have  a good idea of what you want, but if this is new for you, you'll have to wing it.  You don't want the dough too thick and dry, but you don't want it runny and wet, either.  Unlike many cookie recipes, this dough won't easily form cohesive balls--it's a little too sticky for that.  But you can spoon it out to make the cookies.  If you're not sure if you have enough, you can try baking a few, and add more flour later.  It's just easiest to get it mixed well before the chips are added.
3. Add the chocolate chips.  Mix well.
4. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto cookie sheet (this is another recipe that recommends greasing the sheets--I recommend parchment paper.  Do what you will.).  Bake 12-15 minutes.  Keep in mind that these cookies won't brown like most chocolate chip cookies.  They just get a little golden tan at the base and edges.  Don't leave them in too long.

The resulting cookies are very soft; someone once described them as "so fluffy!" but her mouth was full of cookie at the time, so maybe she actually said something else.  Sofa Fleas?  Maybe, but that didn't fit the context.

Just something I cobbled together

Last summer, when Dad and The Lady came to visit, they brought with them a delicious bounty: a shoebox full of peaches.  We ate them every morning for breakfast, but we weren't sure we'd finish them before they got too mushy.  Something had to be done!

Cobbler had to be done.

Fresh Peach Cobbler
1/2 C sugar
1 T cornstarch
1/4 t cinnamon
4 C peeled, sliced peaches
1 t lemon juice
1 C all-purpose flour
1 T sugar
1 1/2 t baking powder
1/2 t salt
1 t firm butter
1/2 C milk
2 T sugar

1. Heat oven to 400F
2. Mix 1/2 C sugar, cornstarch, and cinnamon in 2 qt saucepan.  Stir in peaches and lemon juice.cook over medium-high heat 4-5 minutes, stirring constantly, until it's thick and boils.  Boil and stir 1 minute.  Pour into ungreased 2 qt casserole.  Keep it hot in the oven.
3. Combine flour, 1 T sugar, baking powder, and salt in medium bowl.  Cut in butter with a pastry blender until it looks like fine crumbs.  Stir in milk.  Drop by spoonfuls over hot peaches.  (I worked with the peaches and dough simultaneously, so the peaches didn't rest in the oven.  Still worked.)  Sprinkle 2 T sugar over dough.
4. bake 25-30 minutes or until topping is golden brown.  Serve with whipped cream, or iced cream, or brandy, or something.

something's fishy

Last year, when the Chief Taster finished paying off her school loans and declared herself free, I made her a celebratory dinner.  Popovers (possibly her favorite form of bread), chocolate chess pie (which I grew up eating, and she had never met before, but instantly loved), and this Hearty Seafood Stew.  I was very pleased with myself, and she made lots of happy noises as she shoveled her way into the bowl, so I think it went well.

I cheat a little when I deal with shrimp; you can usually find peeled, deveined shrimp at the grocery (I get mine from the freezer case near the fish).  I still get the raw shrimp, but I save myself a lot of work because... I don't yet know how to peel and devein the little sea bugs in an efficient manner.  I need to work on that.

The whole enchilada

Yeah, I said it.

When I lived in Oregon, we had a COO who owned a share of a beef ranch and liked to go elk hunting.  Both of those are more popular than you might think, because Oregon is like that (he also was part owner in a well-known and high-end goat cheese dairy, but that doesn't fit with this story).  Each year, usually late in the fall, was my favorite holiday: Elk Day.  That's when the COO would show up at our office, and fill any coolers we had with elk chops, deer chops, elk round steak, deer round steak, ground elk, ground venison, and ground beef.  I lived alone, so I could make my supply last until the next elk day.  The last of my treasured elk was marinated on a camping trip; the last of the venison was an inauguration day meal.  I tell you all of this only to explain the joke: the first time I made enchiladas, they were elkchiladas, and they were fantastic.

Now I settle for beef, but last summer I decided I had made them enough to start experimenting, and devised the following Chicken Spinach Enchiladas.  Enjoy!

1 lb boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cooked and shredded
10 oz package frozen spinach, cooked and drained
1/2 C chopped onion
1/2 C sour cream
1 C shredded cheddar
2 T chopped fresh parsley*
1/4 t black pepper
1/3 C chopped bell pepper
2/3 C water
1 T chili powder
1 1/2 t chopped fresh oregano*
1/4 t cumin
1x 4.5 oz can chopped green chiles, drained
1 clove garlic, finely minced
15 oz can tomato sauce
8-12 tortillas (5-6")
shredded cheese, sour cream, chopped onions, or any other toppings you like

disclaimer: the original recipe I used as a starting point called for corn tortillas. I only used those once, and they pissed me off.  If you try to roll them around the filling, they break apart.  If you soak them in sauce to make them pliable, they shred apart.  They are horrible.  However, I once got into a heated argument with someone on Facebook over corn vs. flour tortillas, and it quickly became obvious that neither of us would ever back down from the position of "You're an insane moron with crazy, stupid opinions, and also wrong," so I just de-friended them and had a beer.  You can use whatever you want, as long as it's flour.  Because corn tortillas are horrible.  However, after the first draft of this post, I heard from someone else that if you fry the corn tortillas in oil, it makes them pliable without making them disintegrate.  I haven't tried it yet.

• Combine cooked, shredded chicken with onion, sour cream, 1 C cheese, parsley, cooked spinach, and black pepper.
• In 2 qt saucepan, combine bell pepper, water, chili powder, oregano, cumin, green chiles, garlic and tomato sauce.  Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally, then reduce heat.  Simmer uncovered 5 minutes.
• Spoon a little sauce into the bottom of an 11x7 baking dish (or whatever nearby size you have handy) and spread it around to cover the bottom surface of the pan (I usually achieve this by gently shaking it side-to-side).
• Did you pre-heat the oven?  You should do that now.  350F.

• Spoon about 1/3 cup of filling into a tortilla, roll it shut, and place seam side down in the baking dish.  Repeat until you run out of filling.

• Pour remaining sauce over enchiladas.  Bake uncovered about 20 minutes, or until bubbly, and the tortillas crisp a little.  Top however you like (namely, cheese and sour cream).

*PROTIP: when using fresh herbs, you need about three times as much as you would dried herbs.  There are three teaspoons (t) in a tablespoon (T), so if you are like me and pretty much never have fresh parsley laying around, and can't see the reason in buying a big package when you only need a little bit, de-capitalize the T and used dried instead.  (or, if it calls for some amount of fresh herbs in teaspoons, just divide by three.)

Strawberry rhubarb coffee cake

We visited the Chief Taster's parents earlier last spring, while rhubarb was in season.  Her dad, who once infamously snitched the last two pieces of Thanksgiving pie while nobody was looking, had some rhubarb cut fresh from his garden (which is vast).  While I was in another room, I overheard him tell everyone else, "I have some rhubarb and fresh strawberries, so if Ryan wanted to, he could make me a pie!"  I almost laughed hard enough to spray my toothpaste out of my nose.  I told him such a feat was possible, but we would need a recipe.  The Chief Taster's mom (who missed out on pumpkin pie the previous Thanksgiving when someone filched the last piece she had saved) threw herself into the task, but we got distracted by the allure of strawberry rhubarb coffee cake (scroll down for the variation recipe).  I volunteered to make it for breakfast the next day.

fruit and sugar, bubbling away on the stove.

My only real mistake was not spending more time familiarizing myself with the recipe and hidden location of kitchen items the night before; breakfast was a little later than we wanted.  Plus, some idiot had to keep stopping his work to take silly pictures.

Batter, then fruit goo, then the rest of the batter.  The last bit of batter won't spread well over the fruit goo, so try to glop it out evenly, because it's not going anywhere.

Eventually, we got to eat breakfast.  It was pretty good.  The Chief Taster's dad even served himself a second piece before finishing his first helping.  I take that as a good sign.

morels, please!

Last year we went hiking on Mother's Day.  You may recall there were bears.  There were also morel mushrooms.  When I was a kid, my parents discovered morels and got really excited about hunting them.  For a while, there was a pretty reliable patch in our back yard, and a couple others within a ten minute walk from our house.  Admittedly, I was never that excited about them back then, but it had been over a decade since I'd had any, so I was excited to try them again.

If you go out mushroom hunting, the first thing you should do is make sure you don't pick something poisonous that just looks like morels.  If you don't know, don't eat them.  I'm not telling you how to tell the difference--find someone who's willing to take that responsibility with your life, and ask them.

Second, the forest and park services advise using a mesh bag to carry your haul so the spores can stay in the forest.

When you get your mushrooms home, clean them and soak them in salt water.  This will help drive out any bugs that might have been living inside and didn't fall out of your mesh bag.  Then, slice them lengthwise and do what you will.

On the night I cooked mine, I had also happened to cook some sausage, so I just threw the mushrooms in the pan of sausage juices and sauteed them.

Butter will also work, obviously.  There are plenty of sites that are full of recipes and suggestions.  They probably also have better presentation on the plate than I do.

They taste better than they look.  Honest!

Ii was happy to get to try them again, but I was a little disappointed once I did.  Generally speaking, I love mushrooms.  I put them in salads, pasta sauce, lasagna, pizza, whatever.  But since I had cooked these in sausage drippings, they just tasted like sausage.  None of the original mushroom flavor survived the onslaught of seasoned meat.  Oops.  But they were still very good.  The Chief Taster, however, was wary of them, despite being excited about picking them, and refused to try more than a bite.  Good thing I didn't put them on the pizza I made that night, or I would have had to eat the whole thing myself.  And wouldn't that have been sad?  (for her.)

I make an outstanding pie.  My humble pie is not as good.