sweet

Rhubarb: Rite of Summer

Posted on by Ang Anderson

Hello gorgeous red and green stalks of rhubarb deliciousness.  Welcome.

You have left the safety of the garden and are about to be diced.

Some of you will be frozen (gasp!) while others will grace a few baked goods and be devoured by my family.

(Double gasp!)

I must be feeling wicked.  (On a Sunday?)

I am actually feeling happy.  The harvesting of rhubarb signifies summer in an earthly, reminiscent way.

Temperatures in the nineties.  Kids running through the sprinkler.  The smell of freshly cut rhubarb.

Childhood.  Summer.  I love you.

I love memories of childhood, of summer, and of simple pleasures.

So, I harvested rhubarb from my garden on Sunday and I set to work dicing.

Can you smell the fresh, tart, yummy-ness of this picture?  I hope so.

First, I made a crumb cake, following the guidance of a recipe I sought out on Smitten Kitchen.  There were three separate components:  the crumb, the rhubarb filling, and the cake.  It took signifcantly longer than would normally be humanly necessary because I was home with my two children while my husband was out fishing.  Getting interrupted by a two-year old and four-year old three thousand times does not make for quick progress in the kitchen.  I somehow managed with all of our head still intact.

Secondly, I made rhubarb bread.  This was not as time-consuming as the crumb cake because there is only the simple mixing of ingredients and pouring into a pan.  As my son would say:  ‘Easy.  Peasy.  Lemon Squeasy.’  The interruptions were less because I may have simply given up parenting.  I may have stopped listening and just kept nodding and saying yes.  ‘May’ is the key word in the previous sentence.  Fellow parents, you know exactly what I am speaking of.

Lastly, I was ready to delve into the strawberry-rhubarb pie.  I’ve only made about three pies in my life and so this is one area where I am always a bit cautious.  I do not (and did not) count on it turning out.  I trusted good, ol’ Smitten Kitchen for the pie filling portion and used my own ridiculously easy pie crust recipe (courtesy of my friend Beth).   There was not a strawberry in sight, let alone the pound required to join the rhubarb in the pie.  So, I strapped in the rascals and we headed to the local grocer to get the berries.  With a bit more of the smile-and- wave technique pulled on my family, the pie made it into the oven by evening time. *wipes brow*

A recap of the three rhubarb treats

The crumb cake was my favorite but also had the longest prep time.  The rhubarb bread was a hit with my husband, over the crumb cake.  He is all for the cake and not the crumb, hence the reason the rhubarb bread suited him.  The pie, while on the juicy side (picture me scooping out rhubarb and strawberry juice once the first piece was cut), tasted pretty damn good.  Compliments from husband are always a big deal and the pie received them multiple times. *cue the alleluia music*

Tired from so much baking (Three things in one day?  From the girl who used to pour herself cold cereal for dinner and would not have dreamed of baking any of the above?) I did not snap photos of all of the rhubarb delights.  But I did get some good candid shots of the crumb cake.

Just in case your mouth is not watering yet…

Hello Gorgeous.

The upside to baking three goodies in one day is that there were actually sweets in the house for days, rather than a single twenty-four hour period.  We were even able to share with loved ones who don’t live with us!  The rhubarb bread was gone by Tuesday.  The last piece of pie was eaten Wednesday.  The last and final piece of crumb cake was stashed away until Thursday, secretly saved for the woman who spent all day Sunday romancing the rhubarb.

If you would like to try the rhubarb bread, the following recipe is courtesy of 201 MUFFINS by Gregg R. Gillespie.

RHUBARB BREAD

  • 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 1/2 cups diced fresh rhubarb
  • 1 1/2 cups chopped walnuts or pecans
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 1/2 cups packed brown sugar
  • 2/3 cup canola oil
  • 1 cup buttermilk
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  1. Position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 350 degrees F. Lightly grease and flour an 8 1/2 by 4 1/2 by 2 1/2 inch loaf pan.
  2. In a large bowl, blend together the flour, baking soda, rhubarb, walnuts, and salt.  In a medium bowl, beat the egg and brown sugar until smooth before beating in the oil, buttermilk, and vanilla extract.  Combine the two mixtures, blending until the dry ingredients are thoroughly moistened.
  3. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 45 to 50 minutes, or until cake tester or wooden toothpick inserted into the center of the bread comes out clean and the top is golden brown.  Remove from the oven and cool the pan on a wire rack for 5 to 10 minutes before removing the loaf from the pan.

Bring on the festivities of summer!

Mom’s Trifecta

Posted on by Ang Anderson

Three of yesterday’s food adventures reminded me so much of my mom, I felt compelled to call her and tell her about the little hat trick that she unknowingly scored.  The food was not elaborate or fancy but for me, a simple nudge of childhood memories.  I believe the memories associated with food, home, and comfort are one of the greatest things that a mother can give to her children.  Surprisingly, the two main stars of the day were celery and raisins.

The first order of the morning was getting the split pea soup into the crock pot for dinner.  This involved putting dry peas in with some water, salt, pepper and finely chopping carrots and celery.  There is something very therapeutic about chopping vegetables.  Easy, simple, pea soup goodness.  Just like mom used to make.  I actually believe you either love pea soup or hate it.  I was fortunate enough to receive my mom’s genes for the affinity to pea soup.  She was also blessed with them by her mother.  If you don’t share the love, I do understand.  The texture.  The color.  Either one could possibly put your stomach into a tail spin, if you don’t have the pea soup gene.

After playing outside, we enjoyed a snack of Ants on a Log.  What’s that you say?  Ants?  On a Log?

My mom used to make these for a snack when I was little.  Celery.  Peanut Butter.  Raisins.  The celery acts as a log, the peanut butter is there because hello?  Celery and Peanut Butter.  They are somehow joined in matrimony.  While not as holy as Peanut Butter and Jelly, I believe the crunch and the cream is meant to be.  In reality, the ‘ants’ simply need something to stick to!  I am not even normally that big of a fan of the ol’ PB.  My husband however holds a completely different affection for the butter of peanuts.  He puts it in his oatmeal.  He puts it on his pancakes.  Don’t even get me started on how much he loves it with chocolate.  I would have to admit that the chocolate and peanut butter marriage ranks considerably above celery but in the land of healthy, I think celery would knock out chocolate.  Did you know it takes more calories to actually chew celery than it’s worth?  (Who am I kidding?  I.  Love.  Chocolate.  Sometimes more than my own children.  Well, that’s not really true.  But I do count it as a fifth food group.  If there ever truly was a war between celery and chocolate, my bets are on the dark brown cacao derivative.)

For the sake of the Ants on a Log, celery was our traditional log.  The raisins were served on the side for my kiddos because I wasn’t sure how those little wrinkly ‘ants’ were going to go down with the celery.  But when they saw me doing it, they had to try it too!  The raisins give the snack a bit of sweet goodness.  Successful Ants on a Log passed down from one generation to the next.  *wipes brow*

We also used to have Ants on a Toilet.  Half an apple served as the toilet, in place of the aforementioned ‘log’.  (I apologize for all of the potty related innuendos.)  I also recall that these two silly snacks served as the basis for the junior high speech I gave where we were required to do a demonstration.  What I most remember is the girl who shaved her legs for her speech.  I’m guessing the guys did too.  At least if my kids ever need to do a demonstration, we already have some ideas in our back pocket.

As the Ants on a Log were consumed by the little ones, I mixed up a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies.  The food connections progressed so naturally from one to another.  The celery in the soup caused the peanut butter to be unleashed.  I had the cookies on the docket for about a week so I had the raisins in the pantry.  It was truly a very blessed kitchen trifecta.  All thanks to mom.  Thank you Mom!

The skies happened to be overcast and rainy.  This causes the conditions in my oven to be favorable in producing at least one baked item.  Oatmeal raisin cookies are my mom’s favorite and (most days) mine too.  I simply use the recipe located on the underside of the Quaker Oatmeal container lid.  I also use butter flavor Crisco.  Be sure to add the 2 Tbsp of water if using Crisco.  If you forget, your cookies will not love you, nor you your cookies.  This is a tip from my sister who makes the most amazing chocolate chip cookies.  One of her secrets to success is the Crisco.  Thank you dear sister!  Here are the cookies.  Mmmmmm….

The soup, while pea in flavor and pea in color, is not exactly what I consider photogenic.  However, I felt the need to photograph it just the same.  The greenish guise belies its delicious flavor.

Here is the recipe I used for the split pea soup.  I didn’t have ham or feel like going to the store with my two little ones in tow so I opted not to add any meat this time.  Usually, I throw a ham hock in and it gives the soup a really nice flavor.

Split Pea Soup

  • 1 package split peas (do not soak)
  • 2 cups ham chopped fine (optional)
  • 2 cups celery, chopped fine
  • 2 cups carrots, chopped fine
  • 6 cups water
  • 3 teaspoons of salt (I used kosher)
  • 1 to 2 teaspoons of pepper

Put all ingredients into crock pot.  Cook on low for 7-9 hours.

Here’s to moms everywhere!  Keep doing what you do best.  Cook.  Bake.  Love.

Botched Biscotti

Posted on by Ang Anderson

In the spirit of truth and honesty, I would like to admit that I made a mistake in the kitchen this past week. I managed to royally botch a batch of biscotti.  My grandma loves to have biscotti with her coffee and I love baking it for her.  Traditionally, I use a chocolate chip version but this week I wanted to try using Heath toffee bits instead.  I set to work on a batch the other night.  Apparently, I was just a wee bit distracted because I did not follow the recipe as I should have.  The botched biscotti is pictured above.

Here is the biscotti recipe from Giada de Laurentiis that I usually follow:

Ingredients

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 3/4 cup sugar
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 teaspoon ground anise seed (I never use the anise seed)
  • 1 cup semisweet chocolate chips

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Line a heavy large baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl to blend. Using an electric mixer, beat the sugar and butter in a large bowl to blend. Beat in the eggs 1 at a time. Add the flour mixture and beat just until blended. Add the ground anise seed and mix well. Stir in the chocolate chips.

Form the dough into a 16-inch-long, 3-inch-wide log. Transfer the log to the prepared baking sheet. Bake until light golden, about 30 minutes. Cool 30 minutes.

Place the log on the cutting board. Using a serrated knife, cut the log on a diagonal into 1/2- to 3/4-inch-thick slices. Arrange the biscotti cut side down on the baking sheet. Bake the cookies until pale golden, about 15 minutes. Transfer the biscotti to a rack and cool completely.  (The biscotti can be prepared up to 2 days ahead. Store airtight at room temperature.)

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For my accidental version, I put the sugar in with the dry ingredients (oops!) and then decided to add an additional 1/2 cup of sugar to cream with the butter.  I baked it for 30 minutes as per usual.  It spread out.  It flattened out.  It looked dreadful.  It looked awful.  As far as the first round of biscotti baking goes, it was a total goner.  I thought it was absolutely ruined but decided to take a nibble and see what it tasted like.  Lo and behold, it was an accidental sweet treat success.  It became the hit of our household.  My husband and son gobbled it up to the point of belly aches.  My husband asked if I could repeat the ‘mistake’.  Oh, you bet I could!  My sweet son asked for pancakes the next morning and ‘some of those’ with his cute little smile that tells me he’s in love with the sweet.  The end result was a sort of chewy, yummy, cookie-like treat.  As is such with the life span of most sweet treats at our home, the botched biscotti did not last more than 24 hours.

I know a few of you who have an aversion to chocolate (gasp!) and these would be a great treat for you to try.  The toffee bits were melty just like I would prefer my chocolate to be.  Based on my addiction to the cacao bean and its descendants, I can only imagine that these would make a good substitute.

Here is my version, also known as Our Happy Accident, adapted from Giada’s.

Ingredients

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 3/4 cup sugar (for flour mixture)
  • 1/2 cup sugar (to cream with butter)
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
  • 2 large eggs
  • I do not use the anise seeds
  • 1 bag Heath Toffee Bits

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Line a heavy large baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk the flour, baking powder, 3/4 cup sugar and salt in a medium bowl to blend. Using an electric mixer, beat 1/2 cup sugar and butter in a large bowl to blend. Beat in the eggs 1 at a time. Add the flour mixture and beat just until blended. Stir in the toffee bits.

Form the dough into a 16-inch-long, 3-inch-wide log. Transfer the log to the prepared baking sheet. Bake until light golden, about 30 minutes. Cool 30 minutes.  Cut into bars and devour.

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Have you ever made a mistake in the kitchen?  I would love to hear your botched recipe story and hope that you were able to turn it into some sort of success.  As for me, I think I just got lucky!