Saying Yes! to December (and Norwegian Waffles)

Haven’t been around here much lately. This %#&@! year was letting me know it wasn’t going to go quietly away. September was transitional, like that carton of milk you have to ask your housemate to smell because something about it doesn't seem quite right. October was particularly awful – all tricks and no treats. November got an extra emphasis on its first syllable and shouted “NO!” a lot… or maybe that was me?

But here we are now in December already! Will things continue as they have been or turn around and change their tune? It's too soon to tell. The month is still young even if the year isn’t. I'm going to do my best to be positive. I dearly want this month to say “Yes!” a lot. Heck, I'd be probably be happy with a "maybe" here and there. Yes! I would.

In order to kick things off on a positive note, I made some waffles last weekend. Not just any waffles, Norwegian Waffles. But since I’m all about the Yes! this month, I’m calling them Yes-wegian waffles (Yes! I know it’s silly... Yes! I don't care).

I’ve never gotten the knack of Norwegian Pancakes and have long since stopped attempting them. But Norwegian Waffles? Yes! Yes, I can (and so can you)! They are easy-peasy and are especially festive and appropriate this time of year as they are delicately scented with cardamom and Christmastime. Two of my favorite things.

My hubby, though half-Norwegian, preferred them with butter and maple syrup* while I really enjoyed eating them the Norwegian way: with a smear of sour cream (or plain Greek yogurt) and a dab of berry preserves. Ultimately though, they're waffles... what's not to like, right? I'm making them again today. Yes, I really am!

So, with thanks and apologies to Arne & Carlos, whose recipe I fiddled with, here is the "how-to" in case you want to try them...

Norwegian Waffles (aka: Yes-wegian Waffles)
…adapted from the Arne & Carlos: Norwegian Waffles podcast

1-2/3 cups flour

1/3 cup sugar

1 Tbsp cardamom

1 tsp baking powder

1 good pinch of fine sea salt

1-2/3 cups half-n-half  

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly

5 large eggs, lightly beaten

1 tsp vanilla extract

1. Whisk dry ingredients together.
2. Add wet ingredients, mixing well after each addition.
3. Let batter sit for 30 minutes.
4. A few minutes before the time is up, begin preheating your waffle maker.
5. Ladle enough batter into your preheated waffle maker to make one waffle. Amount will vary depending on your maker.
6. Repeat until all batter is used.

Notes: The original recipe made twelve waffles. My waffle maker yielded eight with this recipe. Your results will undoubtedly vary. Any uneaten waffles can be reheated the next day or frozen for next weekend! Or... use leftovers to make ice cream sandwiches! Yes, please!

Optimistically Yours,

Steph

 

* I love maple syrup, but it has such a strong presence that the lovely (and pricey!) cardamom just gets lost.

PS... this blog post was brought to you by the punctuation mark that I try not to over-use, but is just so loaded with potential positivity I couldn't help myself!

Spring Means Cherry Cake Weather

or... What to do with that glowing jar of maraschino cherries hiding in the back of the pantry (other than topping bowls of ice cream)

It's still Springtime. I can tell because the bugs are fully activated, the weeds are on steroids, the wild onions are in bloom, and there are still a few cherry trees festooned in their floral finery in our neighborhood. Not many, and not for much longer, but a few nonetheless. Pretty sure the late-bloomers are the Kwanzan variety (one of my favorites). I had meant to post this in March or April when all the other varieties of fruit trees were showing off too, but things were starting to get weird in the world and blogging was not my focus.

We don't have cherry trees in our yard anymore, but we do have a crab-apple tree that came with this house, and when it comes to blossomy spring beauty, it's a close second to the cherry trees. Most of the year it's a nondescript unattractive old thing, showing its previous decades of neglect. For three to four weeks out of each year though (usually in March), it's a real stunner. A profusion of dark pink buds start the show and soon burst into pale pink blossoms that finish off creamy white before dropping their petals, swirling and fluttering to the ground, like springtime snow-flurries, with each passing breeze.

The color of this cake reminds me of those pretty buds and blossoms that every year herald the coming spring. The color is achieved by the inclusion of maraschino cherries and specifically, the "liquid" they live in. I won't go into how very unnatural the color of these jarred cherries is or what non-nutritive chemicals could create such a vivid hue, nor why you might want to avoid ingesting these things too terribly often. I'm a "waste not, want not" type of person, and even though they're not healthy, they are still sort of like food and need to be used if at all possible.

The reason we have a jar of maraschino's in the pantry at all is because of a sweet and wonderful Christmas tradition in my hubby's family. And now I have found the perfect thing to use them for. Don't get me wrong, we've had no problem at all using them to adorn bowls of ice cream every year! But next Christmas when I thank my mother-in-law for another jar of cherries, I will look forward to making this cake again.

When our crab-apple starts to bloom (or the neighbor's cherry trees, or all those darned wild onions, or frankly, whenever I feel like making a pink cake), I'll say, "It looks like Cherry Cake weather!"* and reach into the pantry for that jar of maraschinos, vivid with love, family, and memories.

Cherry Tea Cake

adapted from: here, here, here, and here

ingredients:

1 16-ounce jar maraschino cherries
1 3/4 cups All Purpose Flour (+ 2 Tbsp, reserved)

1 cup sugar
2 tsp baking powder

a good pinch of salt
2 large eggs

1/2 cup light olive oil
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup maraschino liquid

1 Tbsp vanilla extract

directions:

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a standard 8.5"x 4.5" glass loaf pan.

1. Drain the cherries well, reserving their liquid. Put the drained cherries in a small bowl lined with a couple folded paper towels, set aside.
2. Whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a medium bowl. 
3. In a separate bowl, add the eggs, oil, and the rest of the liquids. Mix well.
4. Combine wet and dry ingredients until just incorporated.
5. Give the cherries a few chops, then toss them with 2 Tbsp flour until coated (this prevents the cherries from sinking to the bottom while it's baking). 
6. Fold the cherries into the batter and pour it into the greased loaf pan. Bake for about 70 minutes (start checking after 50 though, as ovens and pans vary).
7. If you notice the top of the cake getting too dark too early, make it a little hat out of foil and perch it over the top of the pan.
8. Cake is done when it tests clean with a toothpick in the very middle. 
9. Let cool in pan for 15 minutes, then carefully tip it out and finish cooling it on a rack.

My Notes...

• This cake goes together really fast. No mixer needed, just a whisk and a spoon. 
• Almond extract can be substituted for the Vanilla in whole or part if you like. 
• Powdered sugar or cream cheese glaze would look nice over the top of this cake if gifting or taking to a party etc. Save a little bit of the jar liquid to tint the icing pink. I find that the cake is plenty sweet on its own, so I don't bother to frost it if it's just us eating it. 
• The cake can be frozen (unglazed) if wrapped well. 
• You can bake two mini-loaves instead for gifting (bake time will be shorter), or even make pretty pink cupcakes! 
• If you use a metal loaf pan, the baking time may be different. 
• And lastly, if you're sensitive to red food coloring, you'll want to just stay away from this cake altogether.

Happy spring, late bloomers!

–Steph

P.S. This essay would have worked so much better if we still had a cherry tree in our yard (or if I'd managed to post it six weeks ago). But this is me, doing my best with what I've got (and missing my old cherry trees a little also, I think).

*An homage to Truman Capote's short story A Christmas Memory, about fruitcake and family ("It's fruitcake weather!"). If you haven't read it before, do so in November or December for the right ambiance.  

Little Ginger Cookies (and early spring flours)

Confession time... The photo above was taken five years ago. It's true. I always meant to write about these awesome cookies but never did. Lately I've been doing some digital-decluttering and I saw this picture and remembered those tiny cookies packed with two kinds of ginger, dried apricots, and dark chocolate. Well, you probably guessed what happened next: I had to make the cookies again because I couldn't stop thinking about them! It helped that I happened to have nearly all the ingredients on hand too.

Whole wheat pastry flour... I had none. Not to be deterred by a single ingredient, but also not wanting to ruin the cookies (and risk wasting the other ingredients), I found a possible substitution. The good news is it works!* You do need cake flour to make it work though, which is not something I always have on hand either. I did have some this time though, thanks to a friend who gave up gluten last year. So here's how to fake it:

For every cup of whole wheat pastry flour needed:
Use a half cup of white whole wheat flour and a half cup of cake flour.

Of course, having found the photo and baked up the cookies, I needed to share them with you. I know it's nearly spring and these seem more of an autumn/winter cookie, but I didn't want to wait any longer. When you're decluttering, once you decide to let go of something, you have to get it out of the house or you haven't really gotten rid of it, right? It's still there, in your space, hanging over your head unfinished. This is like that. I needed to free up space, clear the decks and sweep away some cobwebs. Got to move forward.

Only ever-so-slightly out of season. So while our thoughts and taste buds are rushing toward everything fresh, bright, light and spring-y, I give you these little gingery, chocolate-y, crisp and chewy cookies. Spring hasn't sprung everywhere yet–and even where it has, I'm betting the evenings are still chilly–and these little cookies go great with a mug of hot tea or coffee. They're tiny cookies (maybe an inch and a half across) that are perfect when you want a little sweet-but-not-too-sweet something.

Sparkling Ginger Chip Cookies from Heidi Swanson's blog: 101 Cookbooks
(recipe can also be found on page 197 of her book: Super Natural Every Day)
 
According to the recipe, you could also make these with all-purpose flour or even spelt flour. Yes, all-purpose. Of course, I didn't notice that part until later (cough, cough)... but if I had, I wouldn't have found the awesome whole wheat pastry flour substitution! Yea! So if you are out of whole wheat pastry flour and cake flour too, reach for good ol' all-purpose flour (unless, of course, you happen to have spelt flour on hand...

My Notes: The batch in the photo are flatter than they usually turn out. Possibly because I baked them right after mixing the dough. Usually I will shape all the cookies and then refrigerate or freeze them for later. Then, just before baking, I'll roll them in the sugar. So, most of the time the cookies are more domed with cracks across them... which is how they are supposed to look. They're uncommonly delicious, domed or not. Another substitution I made on these was the use of semi-sweet chocolate chips. It was the only chocolate in the pantry, and yes, I chopped them with a knife. Next time I might try the food processor... or a hammer (only semi-kidding about the hammer). The cookies are so small that to leave the chocolate chips whole would throw the flavor/texture off completely. Chop, chop!

*Regarding the whole wheat pastry flour substitution: Just because it worked in this recipe, doesn't necessarily mean it will work in other recipes calling for whole wheat pastry flour. However, in a pinch and if I'm desperate, I'll give it a go. I just won't hang all my hopes and dreams on it working and it should be fine. :)

Lavender & Apricot Breakfast Rolls

From the recipe files: Made these the other day on a whim and we really liked them... they actually went together pretty fast too (no yeast!). The lavender in the dough is just right, not overpowering, and the apricot filling pairs with it perfectly. Looking a bit like cinnamon rolls but with a biscuit-y texture, they were especially tasty alongside a pot of vanilla scented black tea. 

It's really starting to feel like Autumn around here and I'm finding myself wanting to bake more. In other words, I'll be making these again... and again...

Lavender & Apricot Breakfast Rolls

adapted from: Napa Valley Lavender Co.*

Dough:

2 1/4 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3 Tblsp chilled butter
2 Tblsp fresh (or 1 Tblsp dried) lavender flowers, chopped 

1/2 cup milk
1 large egg, lightly beaten

Filling:

4 Tblsp apricot preserves

2 Tbsp butter, softened

4-5 chopped dried apricots

2 tsp sugar

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Wipe the inside of an 8-inch round cake pan or a pie plate with butter or oil.

Whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Cut the cold butter into small pieces (or use a grater if frozen) and work into the flour mixture using a pastry blender or your fingers, just until mixture resembles coarse meal. Stir in the lavender. Add the milk and egg, stirring only until combined. 

Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Gently but firmly pat the dough together, then knead it briefly until dough holds together. Dust the top with a little flour and roll into a 9 by 11 inch rectangle. 

Mix apricot preserves and soft butter together. Warm for a few seconds in the microwave if it's too cold and not blending. Spread mixture over dough, leaving a 1/2 inch strip bare along one long side of the rectangle. Sprinkle the chopped apricots over the top. 

Beginning with the opposite side, roll into a log. Pinch the seam along the length to seal. Cut the log into nine even slices. Place slices in the prepared pan, with one in the middle and the rest in a ring around it. Sprinkle sugar over the tops of the rolls. 

Bake at 375°F for 30-35 minutes or until golden brown and a wooden toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Turn the rolls out of the pan and onto a serving plate. Gently separate each one with a dinner knife and serve.

Notes: I spread a little butter over the pan of rolls right after they came out of the oven  :^) Mmmm!

* I've had 3 pages of printed out recipes from the Napa Valley Lavender Co. website kicking around in my copious recipe files for years... no idea how long. When I went to add their link to this recipe though, the website is no where to be found... apparently they are no longer around. The identical recipes are all over the web though and I have no idea where they actually originated... NVLCo. or somewhere else. Un petit mystery, n'est-ce pas?

Twig Tea (on the rocks)

 
Saving can be good: saving lives, saving money, saving endangered species, saving time, saving the document you've worked so hard on...

But saving can also be bad: saving used staples, saving bellybutton lint, saving junk mail, saving every issue of Underwater Basket Weaving Weekly since 1967.

I like to think that I fall somewhere in between. Although truth be told, I probably skew a bit further to the bad side of saving stuff (just short of the used staples and bellybutton lint). I can't help it... I like to wring every last drop of usefulness out a thing before throwing it out. Even if it's going to be composted.

Save up and stock

For instance, when I dry herbs from my garden and strip the leaves from the stems, the dried stems go into my "stock jar". When I use fresh herbs in my cooking, I save those stems too, letting them dry first, then I add them to the jar. The next time I make stock, I throw a big handful of those dry stems into the pot. They add depth and make my vegetable stock more flavorful.

The sweeter side

It's a good system and it works great for things like rosemary, oregano, and basil. But what about the "sweet herbs"; the lemon verbena, lavender, and the mints? Well, I save those stems separately in a big bowl on the counter and make Twig Tisane (herb tea) with them.

Eating Like A Bird

Everyone used to tell me when I was a young'un that I "ate like a bird". I always thought they were referring to how little I ate. Now that we have a bird-feeder in the front yard and can see just how much birds actually consume… I'm wondering what everyone was thinking! Watching the way they plunder our bird feeder, I can only come to the conclusion that birds eat like pigs. Little itty bitty piggies... with feathers.

The "eating like a bird" reference perhaps then had to do with how I ate, not how much. As a child, I used to pick (peck?) at my food. Maybe that's where the similarity with bird-like table manners comes into play. I also ate really slowly. Birds are not exactly known for eating slowly though, come to think of it. Constantly, sometimes messily, noisily and amusingly... sure, but never slowly. So perhaps I never actually "ate like a bird" at all.

Of course, there's another way to eat like a bird, and that's to eat what birds eat. The other day I made some Millet Muffins, tossing a big handful of blueberries in the batter at the last minute. The first time I'd made these, my Hubby said, "Millet? Isn't that bird seed?". Well, it is... and it isn't. You'll want to buy your own millet from the baking/grains aisle (and not from the pet store), but it is essentially the same grain. When added to baked goods, millet brings a lovely bit of texture, pop, and crunch to the finished treat.

Five Out Of Five Soda Bread

I have to say right here, right now, that I've never personally made a soda bread that I liked. Never. Maybe I just like stuff that I don't have to make myself? That's a distinct possibility. After all, I like the soda bread that friends and family have made. But when I make it myself, it just doesn't happen for me. Ever.

Until now. This soda bread I like... in fact, this soda bread I love. I've only made it three times, but the recipe makes two loaves and we gave one away, so we've eaten five loaves of it (so far). Five out of five. We've had it by itself as a snack, alongside bowls of soup, and with mugs of strong black tea for breakfast (my favorite). I very nearly ate an entire loaf myself. It's that good.

The combination of flavors in this quick bread blur the line between savory and sweet… the caramel-y rich browned butter, sweet/hot freshly ground black pepper, piney/herbal fresh rosemary, a little saltiness from the baking soda, and some earthy sweetness from the honey... I'm making myself hungry.

I Love Olive Oil Cakes

I know I have written about olive oil cakes before. In fact, more than once, which is why I hesitated writing about them again. But I simply had to. How could I not, when I keep finding such great recipes for them? Like this one... 

Heidi Swanson's take on Kim Boyce's Rosemary Olive Oil Cake
Click the link for the recipe on Heidi's blog or find it in Kim's (wonderful) book: Good To The Grain

Beyond tasting good... beyond the lovely moist texture... beyond their rich flavor that is not too sweet, olive oil cakes will always be a go-to dessert for me for the following two reasons:

The Early Bird Gets The Lemon Poppy-Seed Muffin

When I think back on my years in college, I invariably start craving lemon poppy-seed muffins. They played a big part in refueling my academically exercised brain cells on an almost daily basis back then.

Across from the art department was this little place that sold hot dogs and burgers, chips and sodas, candy bars, ice cream treats... and lemon poppy-seed muffins. They had other muffins too. I think blueberry, and maybe some other kind. The blueberry ones were a little too sweet and cake-y for me, and considering the enormous size of these things, they were just too too much. The lemon & poppy-seed ones on the other hand, were perfect. And they always sold out of those first. Clearly I wasn't alone in my devotion. Scented with lemon throughout and not too sweet, the subtle crunch of the poppy-seeds, and then of course... there was the sweet cap of sugary glaze over the top. Sigh. 

Looking back, I'm sure they were massively unhealthy on many levels and probably were made from a mix, but I don't want to think about that now. My ignorance of such things was nothing short of lemon & poppy-seed bliss. Now I am on a quest. A quest to recapture the flavor and texture of those lemon & poppy-seed muffins.  To recreate in my kitchen with real eggs and real lemons (and without all the junk that I don't want anymore) the lemon poppy-seed goodness that sustained me at college. If nothing else, it should be tasty fun trying some of these recipes out to see if I can come close...

Lemon & Poppy-Seed Muffins

• Pint-Size Lemon-Poppy Seed Muffins at Epicurious 
• Lemon Poppyseed Muffin Love at Gluten Free On A Shoestring  
• The Way the Cookie Crumbles: lemon poppy seed muffins  
• Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins at Tasty Kitchen

If you have a tried-and-true Lemon Poppy-Seed muffin recipe... I'd love to hear from you! (I'd love to hear from you even if you don't)...

While You Were Steeping

Ordering iced tea in a restaurant shouldn't be a complicated matter. But somehow it is. "Do you remember if we liked the iced tea here?", Hubs and I furtively whisper to each other as soon as we sit down. We love iced tea you see, and there's nothing worse than taking that first sip and finding something stale and old (or even worse, from a mix) at the other end of the straw. 

Rare is the restaurant that takes as much care with their iced (or hot) tea as they do with their coffee. We tea drinkers are partly to blame. We're just not as bold, robust, and vociferous a group as our coffee counterparts. The differences between us are much the same as how these two drinks act upon my brain: coffee is like jumping out of an airplane, while tea is more like jumping out of an airplane with a parachute... I'm going to hit the ground either way, it's all just a matter of how soon and how hard. This may explain why tea lovers are often mellow, easy-going types who as a group get overlooked by most restaurants and chains.

There are exceptions of course. One of my favorite deli/cafés delivers the ultimate order of iced tea: a tall glass filled to the brim with ice and a small pot of strong hot tea on the side. As soon as the tea has steeped to satisfaction, you pour it over the ice and have the perfect glass of fresh brewed iced tea. This is precisely how I used to make it at home, and still do, when a single perfect glass of the stuff is all I want.

Cocoa Kisses Melt In Your Mouth

It's summer. I want chocolate. It's summer. I don't want to bake. It's hot out. And yet, I want cookies. And I want chocolate. The sun is beating down. And I still want chocolate. The thought of dense and creamy chocolate, however, runs contrary to light summer fare.

Lately, my life seems to be nutty with contradictions and oozing with bad timing. Apparently my taste buds are no exception. Rich heavy desserts really are the last thing on my mind. And yet... a little bit of chocolate might be just the thing right now.

Blood-Orange Ginger Tea Bread

Ready or not, it was time to start using the blood-oranges on our tree. These are the fruits that were on the tree when we bought it back in December. According to various sources, the fruit should have been ripe anywhere from late-February to May. It's now June and whether they were ready or not... I was.

I had dreamed of making something that would highlight the gorgeous ruby flesh of these first fruits; something simple, elegant, and fruit-forward. But alas, they were still a tad too tart. Chalk it up to a Northern-esque climate and an especially cold and wet Spring. I do keep harping on that, don't I? Well, you can take the girl out of So. Cal. but you can't take the So. Cal. out of the girl.

Let's just say I'm feeling a real affinity with this orange tree right now.

Muffins For Mondays And Other Mornings

Muffins are great in ways that scones can never be. While a scone is really only at its best when warm and fresh out of the oven, muffins aren't quite so picky. In fact, I like to make a big batch of muffins and then freeze them for a super-quick breakfast (or snack) on days when I don't feel like cooking... like, oh, today for instance.

As soon as space in my freezer opens up...

• My mom used to make us muffins like these - yummy and healthy... Morning Glory Muffins from What Megan's Making
• Nothing beats the blues like blueberries - blueberry muffins are a double dose of happy... Sure Proof Blueberry Muffins at 3191 Miles Apart
• These Oatmeal Banana Muffins from Half-Baked may be the perfect way to keep eating oatmeal during the summer months (when I don't usually like hot breakfasts). 
• These are not your everyday breakfast muffins... Majestic Muffins from thekitchn
• ...and uh, neither are these... Double Chocolate Butterscotch Breakfast Muffins from thekitchn

What's your favorite muffin recipe? Or do you think of muffins as just frumpy outdated cupcakes? 

Scones On Sundays

Scones don't really make a hearty enough breakfast for a hardworking man like mine. If they did, I'd certainly make them a lot more often. A couple of warm scones with butter and jam suits me just fine though, and if there's a pot of hot black tea nearby, well, all the better. 

We don't usually have a big breakfast on Sundays, which makes it the perfect day for making scones. They're fast and easy, so I can throw them together right after church. And I do mean throw... one of the most important tips for successful scone-making is to handle the dough as little as possible.

These are next on my list of scrumptious scones to try...

• Ginger Scones from Epicurious ...'cause I'm still loving the ginger in these cookies I just made. 
• Rachel Allen's Scones from the Good Food Channel  ...it's metric, but there's a converter handy.
• Grapefruit Honey Yogurt Scones from Joy the Baker ...these just sound so breakfast-y.
• Brown Sugar and Date Scones from At Home And At Sea ...brown sugar and dates - yummmm.
• Maple Syrup Scones from 101 Cookbooks ...I love that these are cut into squares... no waste!

Now, I wonder what kind of tea would go best with each of these scones? Decisions, decisions...

Tassenkuchen a.k.a. Coffecake

Tassenkuchen. A cake that's not too sweet. A cake that goes great with a cup of coffee or a pot of hot tea. Coffeecake in other words. Tea cake, maybe. Or just do as I do and call it... Breakfast Cake.

Using Cosby-esque logic, this cake has milk and eggs and wheat and fruit in it... why wouldn't it be good for breakfast? I dare say, it's healthier than the plates of greasy beige food at the local Lenny's. Or the box of vitamin-enriched sawdust and food coloring that passes for cereal. As a bonus, kids will think you are epically awesome. Or even awesomely epic.

We've had this cake as breakfast for the last three days and it's actually a pretty darn pleasant way to begin the day. Besides, it makes a nice change from our usual porridge. Of course, if you are in the habit of taking tea in the afternoon, or coffee with friends, by all means have this cake later in the day. It's not very sweet or moist, but has a really nice eggy-buttery-ness to it with a subtle lemon peel scent. Come to think of it, it's probably fine at any time.

Yellow, Like The Sun Above The Clouds

Need something to brighten up a dreary day? This is a cake to make you forget all about the soggy gray weather outside. I know, because it happened to me.

Last Sunday we had a potluck to attend and, well, due to pantry limitations, I had decided to bring either a Meyer lemon tart or a chocolate bundt cake. Approaching the decision in a typically sideways manner, I ended up making a lemon bundt.

Cook's Illustrated calls this lemon bundt cake "The Best" and I can't really disagree with them. While I always hesitate to apply that title myself (it doesn't leave any room for improving), it is after all, a lot easier than calling it The Pretty Dang Close To What I Imagine The Best Lemon Bundt Cake Would Taste Like.

Cookie Dreams (or is that kooky?)

Call it my end of the year cookie clearance. Call it early Spring cleaning. Call it me working on something random instead of what I should be doing. But I noticed that there were more recipes for cookies in my bookmark folder than I could possibly ever make (though it sure would be fun to try). Frankly, it was getting pretty crowded in there, with all the Molasses Whatnots, Chocolate Dilly-Bobs and Cranberry Crinkle-Puffs. And more scrumptious baked goods were being posted on my favorite blogs nearly every day this month. Part of my reason for starting this blog in the first place was to be able to organize all my recipes and bookmarks. Guess I took a left turn somewhere. I don't make New Year's resolutions, but if I did, this might be a good place to start.

So here they are... nearly all the cookies I've been dreaming of for the last year or so, not including the ones that are in my cookbook collection (that's something else entirely). Now... let me tell you more about my dream: I dreamt that there were 67 days in the month of December, and 53 pounds of butter in my fridge...

Low-Fat Oatmeal Banana Bread

Because sometimes breakfast needs to be as easy as cutting off a slice or two of the banana bread in the fridge...

Because this time of year, it's nice to eat something occasionally that isn't so sweet it makes your teeth ache....

Because sometimes you just need to do something with the black banana collection in the freezer...

Because sometimes the butter needs be used for baking more important things... like cookies.

Seriously... there's no butter in this. That thrills me to no end, and not because of any caloric reasons either... it's just difficult to bake things when you're out of butter (or when your favorite cookie recipes have called dibs on all of it). It's simply a good recipe to have in your bag of tricks, in your arsenal, up your sleeve, or even, oh... in your recipe box (because you're much more organized than I am)...

Sub Lime

Project: Use It Or Lose It (Lime Edition) finally came to an end early last week, and it was none too soon. There was one lime left and Thanksgiving was looming large on the horizon. It was time to gear up for holiday cooking. Still hovering over me was the all too recent memory of The Great Lime Marmalade Disaster of 2010*. One lime left... make it good.

I love the idea of blackberry and lime together, so I adapted a favorite cookie recipe from last year and delighted in the result (that means we ate a whole lot more of them than we probably should have). It might be a good idea to wait for a party before making these.

Everything's Better With Browned-Butter

Normally, I am not a superstitious person. Black cats can cross my path all they want (here-kitty-kitty-kitty!). When I find a penny, I'll pick it up with no expectations for the outcome of the rest of my day. I flagrantly disregard chain-letters. Rubbing a rabbit's foot only appeals to me if it is still attached to the rest of the sweet fluffy bunny. I have opened more than my fair share of umbrellas indoors.  And the only bad luck I ever got from breaking a mirror is that I had to clean up broken glass and buy a new mirror... but that's not luck. If I broke a wine glass or a crystal vase, it would have the same outcome. That's just cause and effect, action and reaction.

So I was looking to use up more limes the other day, when what popped up on one of my favorite blogs? Browned-Butter Cranberry Lime Muffins. Was it fate? Destiny? A sign? Does it matter? Not really. I did feel however, that the timing was too perfect to ignore (and they kinda sounded delicious)... I needed to make those muffins. Everyone needs to make these muffins. Here's why... the butter browning on the stove smelled so out-of-this-world good. Seriously, why don't they put browned-butter in everything?