When I was pregnant, I ate Take 5 candies by the truckload. I started off with Peanut M&Ms, but my friend Shannon got me hooked on Take 5. I still get a hankering for these tasty treats, so I was really excited when I saw these Pretzel things that a colleague made. The only thing missing from them was the peanut butter in the Take 5. I had more than my fair share in the English Office. In fact, I believe I ate all of them. When I asked her how to make them, she laughed.
Here you go:
1 Bag of mini pretzel twists (the thick ones are best...Snyder?)
1 Bag of Rolo Candies
Tray of Pecan Halves
Place a piece of parchment paper on a cookie sheet.
Place pretzels on them
Relieve each Rolo of its pretty gold foil
Put a Rolo on each pretzel
Top each Rolo with a pecan half
Bake at 350 until the candy melts (about eight minutes).
Cool.
YUMMMMM.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
"Tis the Season...To Cook! Pumpkin Spice Cake for Your Pleasure
It's been a while since I last blogged; life can do that to a girl. But here is my promise to all of my twelve faithful followers: Now that Halloween candy and costumes are past; now that the new job is somewhat in hand; now that all birthdays are done; and now that I can catch my breath for five minutes at a time, I, your humble parent, will be putting up easy recipes for THE SEASON.
What with parties, school gatherings, family, and other things that require gluttony, I am going to post recipes that can be mixed up and put together for THE SEASON, beginning with:
Pumpkin Spice Cake and Honey Frosting
So here's the deal with this recipe: It's a cake or a bread. It can be for dessert, breakfast, or burnch. It even soothes the savage toddler or husband (when T comes home and smells this cooking, he is pretty geeked). The frosting can be used as a spread, as well.
Is this good for low carb? No. For low fat? Ummmm...not even close.
Is this a good recipe? You betcha. It takes ten minutes to put together. Then sit back, drink a cup of tea, and watch the Hallmark Channel while your family salivates.
Ingredients:
1 Stick Butter, melted
2.5 Cups All Purpose Flour (you can also mix with whole wheat flour, too)
2 Teaspoons Baking Soda
.5 Teaspoons Salt
2 Tablespoon Pumkim Pie Spice
2 Large Eggs
1.5 Cups Sugar
1 Can Solid Packe Pumkin Puree (or just the stuff you use for pumkin pie)
Directions
Preheat the oven to 350 F
In a medium bowl, mix flour, soda, salt, and pumpkin pie spice
In a large bowl, whisk eggs, sugar, butter, and canned pumkin (NO beater neccessary) until smooth
Add dry ingredients to the pumkin mixture
Turn batter into prepared pan (loaf pan or a 9" square pan)
Bake until toothpick comes out clean, about 45-50 minutes
If putting into a bread pan, cook for 75-80 minutes
Cool for ten minutes in pan and then turn out on a rack.
Frosting/Spread
1 Stick Butter, softened
1 Package Cream Cheese, softened
.25 Cups Honey
Directions
Beat together until smooth (you do need a beater for this part)
So if you do a bread, use the cream cheese stuff as a spread.
YUMMY, quick, and easy.
I can't guarantee that the other recipes will be this simple, but I will do my best.
What with parties, school gatherings, family, and other things that require gluttony, I am going to post recipes that can be mixed up and put together for THE SEASON, beginning with:
Pumpkin Spice Cake and Honey Frosting
So here's the deal with this recipe: It's a cake or a bread. It can be for dessert, breakfast, or burnch. It even soothes the savage toddler or husband (when T comes home and smells this cooking, he is pretty geeked). The frosting can be used as a spread, as well.
Is this good for low carb? No. For low fat? Ummmm...not even close.
Is this a good recipe? You betcha. It takes ten minutes to put together. Then sit back, drink a cup of tea, and watch the Hallmark Channel while your family salivates.
Ingredients:
1 Stick Butter, melted
2.5 Cups All Purpose Flour (you can also mix with whole wheat flour, too)
2 Teaspoons Baking Soda
.5 Teaspoons Salt
2 Tablespoon Pumkim Pie Spice
2 Large Eggs
1.5 Cups Sugar
1 Can Solid Packe Pumkin Puree (or just the stuff you use for pumkin pie)
Directions
Preheat the oven to 350 F
In a medium bowl, mix flour, soda, salt, and pumpkin pie spice
In a large bowl, whisk eggs, sugar, butter, and canned pumkin (NO beater neccessary) until smooth
Add dry ingredients to the pumkin mixture
Turn batter into prepared pan (loaf pan or a 9" square pan)
Bake until toothpick comes out clean, about 45-50 minutes
If putting into a bread pan, cook for 75-80 minutes
Cool for ten minutes in pan and then turn out on a rack.
Frosting/Spread
1 Stick Butter, softened
1 Package Cream Cheese, softened
.25 Cups Honey
Directions
Beat together until smooth (you do need a beater for this part)
So if you do a bread, use the cream cheese stuff as a spread.
YUMMY, quick, and easy.
I can't guarantee that the other recipes will be this simple, but I will do my best.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
On This Day...
Ten years ago today I was teaching Acting I to a group of students who were at best interested, and at worst ready to fall asleep. It was a beautiful, clear morning, and no one was very excited about being cooped up in a black room with no windows, which was the Lab Theatre. During the class I got an all call to the faculty to check email. I did, and was told that there was something going on in New York. I had another email that asked about my parents. Were they okay? Then Scott, a colleague, came into my room and told me to turn on the television. The look on his face was something that I will never forget. I did turn on the television.
The Twin Towers were on the screen; one of them had smoke coming out of it. My students were wondering what was happening; I tired to assure them that everyting was okay, but I had no explanation for the smoke and panic from the media. I asked that we simply watch quietly. Within two minutes the second plane hit the second tower. At that point, we knew that something was wrong.
Soon thereafter. there was an all call for teachers to turn off their televisions. I waited a minute or two, and then I saw the surreal. One of the Twin Towers collapsed. I then knew that what we were witnessing was not only horrific, but also historical. I also knew that my students should be spared this. What if one of thier family members were working in New York? What if one of them was in the Towers? I turned off the television, and I tried my best to do what teachers and schools do: keep the students safe and secure; it was a difficult task.
Throughout the day, there were questions being asked that I could not answer; there were worries that I could not assuage. In fact, I was worried, as well. Mom and Dad were flying home from Montreal that morning. I was to meet them for dinner in the evening. As per their itinerary, they were to be flying over New York right about the time that the Towers were hit. I was devastated by worry for them and for my fellow countrymen. I was almost debilitated with fear that I might lose two of the people that I cared about most: my parents.
But my calling was to teach children. My most important job that day was to ensure the safety and the security of those in my charge: my students. I worried about the kids in my classroom; I worried about my former students who were in New York for study or for work; I worried.
One of the most beautiful things about being a teacher is the ability to get lost in the lesson and get lost in the day. I was able to do that. I was able to help students try to understand what was happening, even though I was unable to help them understand why it was happening. School should be a safe place for children. I hope that I and my colleagues gave the extra understanding and support that day to our charges.
I found out during my planning that my parents were safe in Atlanta. Theirs was the only flight not cancelled simply because someone important was on the plane. Each of my students who were in New York had graciously checked in at the school letting their former teachers know that they were safe. Michelle, in particular, wrote on her online diary about what she was experiencing. What she wrote was dark and scary, but told through the eyes of someone young and...innocent, for lack of a better word.
I cancelled rehearsal that day; it was the right thing to do, but I stayed at school in case my students needed to be somewhere safe. I think that I needed them more than they needed me. I then met my family at my parents' house. September 11, 2001 was not the night to go to dinner; September 11, 2001 was the night to stay at home and cook with family and spend time with family and pray with family.
That is what we will be doing this evening, the tenth anniversary of one of the most terrible tragedies to hit our soil. Where were you when the world stopped turning, and how will you spend your day?
The Twin Towers were on the screen; one of them had smoke coming out of it. My students were wondering what was happening; I tired to assure them that everyting was okay, but I had no explanation for the smoke and panic from the media. I asked that we simply watch quietly. Within two minutes the second plane hit the second tower. At that point, we knew that something was wrong.
Soon thereafter. there was an all call for teachers to turn off their televisions. I waited a minute or two, and then I saw the surreal. One of the Twin Towers collapsed. I then knew that what we were witnessing was not only horrific, but also historical. I also knew that my students should be spared this. What if one of thier family members were working in New York? What if one of them was in the Towers? I turned off the television, and I tried my best to do what teachers and schools do: keep the students safe and secure; it was a difficult task.
Throughout the day, there were questions being asked that I could not answer; there were worries that I could not assuage. In fact, I was worried, as well. Mom and Dad were flying home from Montreal that morning. I was to meet them for dinner in the evening. As per their itinerary, they were to be flying over New York right about the time that the Towers were hit. I was devastated by worry for them and for my fellow countrymen. I was almost debilitated with fear that I might lose two of the people that I cared about most: my parents.
But my calling was to teach children. My most important job that day was to ensure the safety and the security of those in my charge: my students. I worried about the kids in my classroom; I worried about my former students who were in New York for study or for work; I worried.
One of the most beautiful things about being a teacher is the ability to get lost in the lesson and get lost in the day. I was able to do that. I was able to help students try to understand what was happening, even though I was unable to help them understand why it was happening. School should be a safe place for children. I hope that I and my colleagues gave the extra understanding and support that day to our charges.
I found out during my planning that my parents were safe in Atlanta. Theirs was the only flight not cancelled simply because someone important was on the plane. Each of my students who were in New York had graciously checked in at the school letting their former teachers know that they were safe. Michelle, in particular, wrote on her online diary about what she was experiencing. What she wrote was dark and scary, but told through the eyes of someone young and...innocent, for lack of a better word.
I cancelled rehearsal that day; it was the right thing to do, but I stayed at school in case my students needed to be somewhere safe. I think that I needed them more than they needed me. I then met my family at my parents' house. September 11, 2001 was not the night to go to dinner; September 11, 2001 was the night to stay at home and cook with family and spend time with family and pray with family.
That is what we will be doing this evening, the tenth anniversary of one of the most terrible tragedies to hit our soil. Where were you when the world stopped turning, and how will you spend your day?
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Recent Books; I've Been Remiss
So I have read two books recently that were really good. Apparently, I read dark literature, and I am probably not going to change that. I guess it's because I have good life with good friends, good family, and good (okay, debatable) children.
Bel Canto
Story of terrorists who invade a private party for a Japanese man. The man is visiting from Japan to the South American country because his favorite opera singer has agreed to perform. The story is in third person omniscient and opens the reader up to the minds and hearts of not only those held captive but also the terrorists.
It's a slow read in the beginning, but as the book progresses, the reader finds himself/herself engaged in the intimate details of why one does what one does.
Three Stars; the ending was a bit truncated, and the epilogue a bit too "happy"
Zeitoun
Read this one in about a week, and for those of you with children, you will understand that this is a feat. It accounts a Muslim family before, during, and after Katrina. The book shows the effects of a government gone awry, and the people within the government agencies gone power hungry.
For those of us who are sucked into tragedy and feel empathy for those who experience tragedy, you will understand why I read this. When Katrina hit New Orleans, I sat in front of the television and cried until my husband turned off the television and forbade me to turn it on again. I sent money, I gave blood, and I adopted a family in need (probably to no avail after reading this book).
This non-fiction tempts the reader into believing that New Orleans may have been much better off if the federal government, more specifically FEMA, had not gotten involved in the disaster. I was completely sucked into the narration of the book. The ending, which I had to go to early on in the book, depicts a triumph of the human spirit that is admirable~I, myself, would not have fared as well as the protagonists.
Bel Canto
Story of terrorists who invade a private party for a Japanese man. The man is visiting from Japan to the South American country because his favorite opera singer has agreed to perform. The story is in third person omniscient and opens the reader up to the minds and hearts of not only those held captive but also the terrorists.
It's a slow read in the beginning, but as the book progresses, the reader finds himself/herself engaged in the intimate details of why one does what one does.
Three Stars; the ending was a bit truncated, and the epilogue a bit too "happy"
Zeitoun
Read this one in about a week, and for those of you with children, you will understand that this is a feat. It accounts a Muslim family before, during, and after Katrina. The book shows the effects of a government gone awry, and the people within the government agencies gone power hungry.
For those of us who are sucked into tragedy and feel empathy for those who experience tragedy, you will understand why I read this. When Katrina hit New Orleans, I sat in front of the television and cried until my husband turned off the television and forbade me to turn it on again. I sent money, I gave blood, and I adopted a family in need (probably to no avail after reading this book).
This non-fiction tempts the reader into believing that New Orleans may have been much better off if the federal government, more specifically FEMA, had not gotten involved in the disaster. I was completely sucked into the narration of the book. The ending, which I had to go to early on in the book, depicts a triumph of the human spirit that is admirable~I, myself, would not have fared as well as the protagonists.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
The Tale of the "Sneaky Penis"
Okay, it sounds more risque than it really is, but I feel the need to share...
In our family we are very open about private parts. I grew up in apuritan Catholic manner, so the words penis and vagina were not uttered. In fact, as a child, I was pretty certain that if I went farther than first base, I would be killed in a horrific car accident and end up with a front row seat in hell while pregnant. It took me until I was in university to...well, whatever.
We decided that we would be very factual about boy and girl parts with our children, and we have called them by their medical terms since they were born. Which is why I was shocked when my husband came out to the porch one morning this week while I was enjoying my coffee to tell me this story.
Apparently Daddy went upstairs in his undies to get the kids ready for school. The girl child would have none of this, and she told him in no uncertain terms that he was to go and put on some pants. He complied but was a bit befuddled. Upon returning properly clad in full dress to get the four year old, she said to him, "Now your sneaky penis won't get me." I asked her about it, but she clammed up like a kid getting into trouble, so I let it be. I mean, did she hear about the sneaky penis at school? At church? From Dora?
In a way, I'm glad that she thinks penises are sneaky. She's not wrong in her assessment that men's appendages have caused many a heartache. The sooner she realizes that boys are sneaky and so are their penises, the better off she will be, and the better her father and I will sleep at night. Lord knows I don't want to have "the talk" with her any time soon (double digits, but I'm not fooling myself), so this was refreshing.
On the other hand, I don't want her to be all worked up over a penis. They have their place. Without one in particular, she would not be here to talk about sneaky penises. I don't want her to be afraid of men and their penises, but being wary of them and their sneakiness would not be a bad thing.
Would it?
I'm chalking this one up to childhood and calling it a day. Thoughts?
In our family we are very open about private parts. I grew up in a
We decided that we would be very factual about boy and girl parts with our children, and we have called them by their medical terms since they were born. Which is why I was shocked when my husband came out to the porch one morning this week while I was enjoying my coffee to tell me this story.
Apparently Daddy went upstairs in his undies to get the kids ready for school. The girl child would have none of this, and she told him in no uncertain terms that he was to go and put on some pants. He complied but was a bit befuddled. Upon returning properly clad in full dress to get the four year old, she said to him, "Now your sneaky penis won't get me." I asked her about it, but she clammed up like a kid getting into trouble, so I let it be. I mean, did she hear about the sneaky penis at school? At church? From Dora?
In a way, I'm glad that she thinks penises are sneaky. She's not wrong in her assessment that men's appendages have caused many a heartache. The sooner she realizes that boys are sneaky and so are their penises, the better off she will be, and the better her father and I will sleep at night. Lord knows I don't want to have "the talk" with her any time soon (double digits, but I'm not fooling myself), so this was refreshing.
On the other hand, I don't want her to be all worked up over a penis. They have their place. Without one in particular, she would not be here to talk about sneaky penises. I don't want her to be afraid of men and their penises, but being wary of them and their sneakiness would not be a bad thing.
Would it?
I'm chalking this one up to childhood and calling it a day. Thoughts?
Sunday, August 7, 2011
The New Millenium and the RSVP
I like to think of myself as an Emily Post follower. I know how long I have to write thank you notes; I am aware of when and where to take gifts, big or small; I know where the water glass, wine glass, and all utensils go on the table; however, until I was 37, I was unaware that RSVP stood for "respond, please". I blame my mother for this; I blame that sweet woman for a lot of things, but for 37 years, I thought that RSVP, stood for "reserve, please."
I found out about the "respond" versus the "reserve" when I was called out for not showing up to a senior recital for one of my former students. She is now a professional opera singer, so I kind of feel regrtful in addition to being embarrassed...still (Catholic Guilt runs deep, friends~I'm sure Mom still feels the sting of not enlightening me of the RSVP).
Since that time, though, I have become a bit of an RSVP snob. I would judge people who did not RSVP in an appropriate manner or in an appropriate amount of time. When we have parties at our home, I get all worked up about people who don't RSVP, and then I simply delete them from the invitation the following year. I mean, really; how hard is it to RSVP, especially in today's world of Evites, and Facebook, and email follow ups. I even ask people to email the RSVP to save time and a phone call that requires small talk, which is never small.
Then I found an invitation to a party for one of my daughter's many birthday parties that she is invited to stowed away in the catch-all basket that also contains seeds, scrap paper, receipts, a jump drive, a few screws, tape measures, and any other thing that is homeless in our home. I was doing the "holy god, I can't take this mess any more," and I found an invitation to a party for THAT DAY! It was yesterday, so this is still fresh in my mind, and I am mortified.
As a self-proclaimed RSVP snob, I am horrified that not only do I have to apologize for not sending appropriate response, but I am feeling so guilty that I think I need to send a gift...
So I appeal to my twelve readers and ask your help. Do I simply call and apologize? Do I rescind my snobbery and become one of the unwashed masses who still think that RSVP means "reserve"? And what about Facebook? Does that even count, any way???
Maybe we/I should be a little more understanding about things over which we/I have no control. I mean, it may be enough to leave a restaurant for grammatical errors on the menu; being and RSVP Nazi might be taking the snobbery factor too far.
Whatsay you?
I found out about the "respond" versus the "reserve" when I was called out for not showing up to a senior recital for one of my former students. She is now a professional opera singer, so I kind of feel regrtful in addition to being embarrassed...still (Catholic Guilt runs deep, friends~I'm sure Mom still feels the sting of not enlightening me of the RSVP).
Since that time, though, I have become a bit of an RSVP snob. I would judge people who did not RSVP in an appropriate manner or in an appropriate amount of time. When we have parties at our home, I get all worked up about people who don't RSVP, and then I simply delete them from the invitation the following year. I mean, really; how hard is it to RSVP, especially in today's world of Evites, and Facebook, and email follow ups. I even ask people to email the RSVP to save time and a phone call that requires small talk, which is never small.
Then I found an invitation to a party for one of my daughter's many birthday parties that she is invited to stowed away in the catch-all basket that also contains seeds, scrap paper, receipts, a jump drive, a few screws, tape measures, and any other thing that is homeless in our home. I was doing the "holy god, I can't take this mess any more," and I found an invitation to a party for THAT DAY! It was yesterday, so this is still fresh in my mind, and I am mortified.
As a self-proclaimed RSVP snob, I am horrified that not only do I have to apologize for not sending appropriate response, but I am feeling so guilty that I think I need to send a gift...
So I appeal to my twelve readers and ask your help. Do I simply call and apologize? Do I rescind my snobbery and become one of the unwashed masses who still think that RSVP means "reserve"? And what about Facebook? Does that even count, any way???
Maybe we/I should be a little more understanding about things over which we/I have no control. I mean, it may be enough to leave a restaurant for grammatical errors on the menu; being and RSVP Nazi might be taking the snobbery factor too far.
Whatsay you?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sour Cream Poundcake for the Southerner in You
I got this recipe from my husband's deceased aunt. In their family, one does not deserate the deceased by making their recipes. I don't know why, but it's true; or it was true until Lynette, Sis' daughter-in-law, got uppity and made this poundcake. Since that time, Sis is living through her recipes, which, in my humble opinion, are completely awesome. Legend has it that Sis would spend her days in the kitchen making everything from homemade buscuits to peach pies. Her sloppy potaotes are epic (recipe forthcoming).
I was posting recipes that were easy to fix and good for you, but this is much more fun, and, now that summer is here, I have more time to get back to my southern roots and pay homage to a woman whom I have never met, but who has recipes that really speak to the southerner in us all.
First up:
Sour Cream Poundcake
You must follow this recipe exactly; A Kitchenaide is best, but I kick it old school and use a hand mixer. If anyone would like to procure me a Kitchenaide, I will happily take it off your hands. I hope my better half is reading this. Never mind. I would weigh 750 pounds...
5 Eggs
2 Sticks Butter
3 Cups Sugar
1 Cup Crisco
3.5 Cups Flour
1tsp Baking Powder
.5 Cups milk
.5 Pints sour cream
1.5 tsp lemon extract
1 tsp vanilla
Cream shortening, butter, and sugar in a really big bowl. Add eggs one at a time, while continuing to mix and scraping the bowl.
Mix flour and powder together in a separate bowl.
Add flour mixture alternately with milk and sour cream. This takes a while, but it is imperative to get the cake to rise properly. I put a third of the flour in and beat it well, then add the milkl, beating it well; flour and sour cream; flour. The batter is pretty thick.
Pour into a coned bundt pan (the really tall one with the removeable bottom?). This requires a helper because the batter is really heavy.
Bake at 325 for 1.5 hours
In honor of Aunt Sis.
I was posting recipes that were easy to fix and good for you, but this is much more fun, and, now that summer is here, I have more time to get back to my southern roots and pay homage to a woman whom I have never met, but who has recipes that really speak to the southerner in us all.
First up:
Sour Cream Poundcake
You must follow this recipe exactly; A Kitchenaide is best, but I kick it old school and use a hand mixer. If anyone would like to procure me a Kitchenaide, I will happily take it off your hands. I hope my better half is reading this. Never mind. I would weigh 750 pounds...
5 Eggs
2 Sticks Butter
3 Cups Sugar
1 Cup Crisco
3.5 Cups Flour
1tsp Baking Powder
.5 Cups milk
.5 Pints sour cream
1.5 tsp lemon extract
1 tsp vanilla
Cream shortening, butter, and sugar in a really big bowl. Add eggs one at a time, while continuing to mix and scraping the bowl.
Mix flour and powder together in a separate bowl.
Add flour mixture alternately with milk and sour cream. This takes a while, but it is imperative to get the cake to rise properly. I put a third of the flour in and beat it well, then add the milkl, beating it well; flour and sour cream; flour. The batter is pretty thick.
Pour into a coned bundt pan (the really tall one with the removeable bottom?). This requires a helper because the batter is really heavy.
Bake at 325 for 1.5 hours
In honor of Aunt Sis.
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