A Sweet New Year's Treat for You.

Here we go. Tomorrow is New Year's Day, the day we all resolve to be better, smarter, thinner, more organized, more energetic, more compassionate, kinder. 

But what if we started the New Year by being kinder to ourselves?

What if, instead of forcing ourselves to eat an apple for breakfast tomorrow--even though we're dying to carb-load due to our foggy, champagne-laden brains--what if we treated ourselves, celebrating the New Year with a bit of decadence, with a sugar-load of happiness?

Would we spontaneously combust?

Would we ruin the rest of 2014 by enjoying one sinful, delicious, happy breakfast? Or would we savor it, licking our fingers, lounging in our PJs, sipping a great cappuccino (if that's your thing), and spending a restful, lazy New Year's morning with those we love?

I vote for the latter, minus the cappuccino, since I'm not a coffee girl.

So for you, my wonderful friends, I'm giving you a gift. It's a recipe, yes, but it's also permission to ignore the date, to realize that one more seasonal overindulgence will not ruin your goals for 2014.

But it might make the start of your New Year a little sweeter.


Now, this isn't my recipe. In fact, it's a pretty famous recipe. When I posted photos of my holiday baking extravaganza, several friends knew right away where this recipe originated.

The Pioneer Woman.

Yep, I was a huge fan of her blog when I first started my own, and of course I bought her first cookbook as soon as it hit Barnes and Noble. Her cinnamon rolls are a holiday tradition in our house now. Actually, they've surpassed just the holidays. They're not only great for sharing with neighbors and friends during the festive season, but they're fabulous for bake sales, school functions, teacher breakfasts, whatever requires a decadent dish for many people.

It's such a happy recipe.



However, I've found that I need to tweak it a bit. Granted, I'm not a master baker, but somehow the dough always ends up too moist for me to work with it, so my version uses a little more flour. And I'm definitely not a fan of coffee and maple, so I've changed the icing to strictly vanilla flavor, plus I've increased the amount of icing. I find that I have a heavy hand when pouring icing, and I end up without enough for all of the rolls using the original recipe. If you like a light glaze of icing, then cut back--but I think yummy, thick icing makes them even more heavenly. If you'd like to see the original recipe, though, here it is. Obviously, The Pioneer Woman is brilliant. I'm just sharing what works best for me.

I can guarantee one thing, though--she's right. You'll become incredibly popular when you deliver these during the holidays, or anytime of the year. (I've actually had two people ask if I would make them if they paid me. Ummm...no. This is strictly a labor of love.)

The Pioneer Woman's Cinnamon Rolls (with a few adaptations by yours truly)
Dough
1 quart whole milk
1 cup vegetable oil
1 cup sugar
2 packages active dry yeast (4-1/2 teaspoons)
10 cups flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tbsp. salt

Filling
3 cups melted butter
1/2 cup ground cinnamon
3 cups sugar

Icing
3 lbs. powdered sugar
12  tbsp. melted butter (1-1/2 stick)
1-1/2 cups whole milk, depending on the consistency you prefer
dash of salt
2 tbsp. vanilla extract (note: use the good stuff. I also like to scrape a vanilla bean for extra flavor)


Directions:
1. Heat the milk, oil, and sugar in a saucepan over medium heat--don't boil. Cool to lukewarm.
2. Sprinkle the yeast on top of the milk mixture. Let it rest for a minute to activate. 
3. Add 8 cups of the flour, a few cups at a time (unless you want your kitchen to look like a winter wonderland. Not that I've ever done that.) I love my KitchenAid mixer so much. Although, it's really not mine. I bought it for my bread-making husband many years ago. Selfish present, wasn't it?! Oh, sorry, back to the recipe!
4. Take a look at the dough after you mix it. Does it look really sticky? If so, then add another cup of flour, mix, and cover with a kitchen towel.  Mine always is a little too sticky, but check your dough before you blindly throw in the extra cup of  flour. Let the dough rise for an hour.
Note: My last batch of dough REALLY rose...over the side of the bowl and onto the counter. So, take a look periodically at your dough during that hour. (I waited a little too long.)
5.  Remove the towel, add the baking soda, baking powder, salt and another cup of flour. Mix to ensure everything is well combined. Now, check your consistency once again. Does it stick to your hands in a gloppy glue? Add that extra flour and mix.
The Pioneer Woman says you can store the dough in the refrigerator for up to three days, but I always use mine right away. If you store it, just check to make sure it doesn't rise all over your refrigerator--punch it down when it starts growing toward the top of the bowl.
6. Flour your work space and rolling pin. Remove half of the dough and roll into a long rectangle, about 1/4 inch thick. Now, you're ready to add the yumminess.
7. For the filling, melt the butter and pour at least 1 cup of it onto the dough, spreading it evenly. I use a pastry brush, but The Pioneer Woman uses her fingers. 
8. Now, sprinkle 1/4 cup cinnamon over the buttery dough. Honestly, I adore cinnamon, so I really just take the container and generously sprinkle the divine spice all over the dough. Adjust to your taste, of course. (My kids are not big cinnamon fans. Silly kids.)
9. So, we have butter. We have cinnamon. Now, it's time to add the sugar. I use about 1-1/2 cups of sugar, distributed evenly over the dough. The goal is a delicious, gooey filling, and I've found that this ratio of butter and sugar does the trick. 
10. Ready? It's time to test your dexterity. Honestly, I find this next step to be the most challenging. It's time to roll. Start on the long side farthest from you, and tightly roll the dough toward you. It's not that this step is necessarily difficult--it's just messy. If you're like me, you'll wind up with a nice flour-butter-sugar-coated sweater during this process. Try to keep the roll tight and even. If the dough is sticking to your work surface, I find that I can lift the dough slightly with one hand and slide a bit of flour underneath, which seems to help. As you near the end of rolling, take the side nearest you, lift it slightly over the roll and pinch it closed. Now, you have a beautiful roll of sugary deliciousness-to-be.
11. Make certain your surface is safe for cutting (or transfer dough to a cutting board), and slice the rolled dough into 1-1/2 inch segments using a sharp knife.
12. Drizzle a bit of butter into your pans, coating the bottom and sides. Place the sliced rolls into the pans, spacing evenly without overlapping. (For events with large crowds, like a school function, I use 9 x 12 pans, but for individual gifts, I use round 9" cake pans.)
13. Cover the pans/rolls with a kitchen towel and allow them to rise for about 20 minutes--which gives you enough time to roll out and fill the remaining dough. Preheat your oven now, too--375 degrees.
14. Bake the cinnamon rolls for 13 to 17 minutes, depending on your oven. The goal is a lovely, light golden brown roll. Keep you eyes on them, because they just aren't as tasty when they're too brown. (Not that I would know, of course.) ;-)
15. And now, while those babies are baking in the toasty oven, it's time for more sugar...it's time to make the icing. Mmmm! (Do this when your kids aren't around, otherwise they'll want to lick the bowl--and you deserve to lick it yourself after all of this work!) Combine the powdered sugar, milk, butter, salt and vanilla in a large mixing bowl and whisk until smooth. Of course, you need to sample it a few times and add whatever makes you happy--a little more milk to smooth the consistency? Sure. A splash more vanilla? Why not? Adjust to make the icing just as you like it. I don't like it too thin, but I do like it to pour easily over the rolls. It makes icing a cinch.
16. After the rolls are removed from the oven and still warm, pour the icing over the top, allowing it to drizzle all over the rolls. My personal goal with icing the cinnamon rolls is that no portion of the roll should be naked. But that's just me. You can use a lighter hand if you prefer.

And that, my friends, is my New Year's gift to you...a big, scrumptious, delicious smelling and tasting cinnamon roll for New Year's Day breakfast. No Slim Fast. No grapefruit. Be kind to yourself and go make them, right now, before your begin your celebration tonight.

Better yet, if you're having guests over--have them help you bake while you drink champagne, and send them home with a pan of cinnamon rolls. 

You will be happy tomorrow morning. I promise.

Happy, happy New Year's to you! May all of your wishes come true!

(And be safe tonight.)

Cheers!

XOXO ~

Julie

Craving Summer and BBT Pie. (Bacon, Basil, and Tomato Pie, That Is.)

September is a bittersweet month. While we're thickly back into school and after-school activity mode, I'm still desperately clinging to summer. I'm not ready for rushed dinners and early bedtimes. I want to lounge with the kids, reading books and playing ping-pong, not cracking my taskmaster whip to memorize multiplication tables or--worse--to solve for x. I watch leaves fall and litter the pool, but my heart's not ready to surrender and cover it. 

And I'm certainly not ready to give up tomatoes.

Sadly, though, the time is here. A few vines barely cling to life in the garden. Most of the tomato plants were pulled up long ago, victim to too much rain and too little sun. (It was a very odd South Carolina summer.) I spent a ridiculous amount of time pruning the few survivors, removing diseased leaves and knowing that I should just end their misery and allow them an honorable death for their service. (Can you tell I'm reading Game of Thrones?) 

Still, the few pitiful vines continue to produce a few pitiful tomatoes, and I'm taking full advantage of the fruit before it disappears completely. 

Hoping to embrace the last wisps of summer, I decided we needed a dinner that would makes us feel that we're still in the thick of summer, when produce is abundant and days are lazy.

In South Carolina, the quintessential summer dinner is Tomato Pie.

Maybe it's not only a South Carolina staple, but I'd never heard of tomato pie until we crossed the Mason-Dixon line. I know it never graced our dinner table in Munster, Indiana. (I wouldn't have eaten it, anyway. My family will attest that I was the world's pickiest eater.)

Over the years, my friends Dana and Janet shared their recipes for tomato pie with me. Let me assure you, when you mention on Facebook that you're about to make a tomato pie, your friends will begin salivating, asking when they should arrive for dinner. 

I know. I've been on the other side. 

Admittedly, I'm not a brave cook. I'm typically a recipe follower, too fearful to deviate from perfectly proportioned ingredients. But somehow, I became a chef renegade when I pulled out my friends' tomato pie recipes.

I added. I deleted. I substituted. I feared disaster.

But you know what?

It was yummy.

Before we get to the recipe, I feel you're owed full disclosure.

I used a pre-made pie crust. 

I know, I know...I've lost all credibility with you now. And I know my friend Janet will tell me that I shouldn't be intimidated by pie crusts. 

But it was a school night, and suddenly it was 6 p.m. and I hadn't even thought about starting dinner. So, rather than forgo that lovely taste of summer, I punted and used pre-made.

I'm sorry.

Janet uses this recipe for her pie crust. I'm going to use it when I make an apple pie this afternoon. Really. I am.

Regardless of whether you use a homemade or a pre-packaged pie crust, I urge you to snatch up the last summer tomatoes from your garden or the farmers' market and make this tomato pie tonight.

It will make you happy. I promise.

BBT Pie (Bacon, Basil, Tomato Pie)

Ingredients:

4 large tomatoes, or 8 medium, cut into 1/4-inch slices. (I used a variety of organic heirloom tomatoes to make the flavor more complex.)
8 slices bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces, cooked
2 shallots, diced
1 cup mayonnaise
1/2 tsp. salt, plus extra for tomato prep
1 tbsp. fresh chives, chopped finely
2 tbsp. fresh basil, chopped
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus a bit extra to sprinkle on top
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place pie crust in ungreased 9-inch pie pan, fold edges under, and pinch or crimp crust with fingers or fork. 

2. Bake crust for 10 minutes until lightly browned. Remove from oven.
 
3. While oven preheats and as crust pre-bakes, slice tomatoes and place on paper towels. Sprinkle with salt to draw water out of fruit, and let tomatoes rest approximately 20 minutes. (If you skip this step, your tomato pie can be quite soupy.) Pat dry.

4. In a large skillet, brown bacon until crispy. Remove bacon from pan.

5. Add shallots to bacon grease in pan and cook until slightly brown, approximately 3-4 minutes. Remove shallots and drain grease.

6. Sprinkle 1/2 cup grated Parmesan on bottom of pie crust.

7. Layer tomatoes on top of Parmesan until crust is filled to approximately 1/4-inch of top of pan.

8. Stir together mayonnaise, bacon, basil, shallots, chives, and remaining Parmesan cheese and mozzarella cheese until well-blended.

9. Spread mixture evenly over the top of the tomatoes. Grate a bit of Parmesan and sprinkle on top.

10. Bake in 350-degree oven for 40-45 minutes, removing when cheese begins to brown.

11. Cool and serve with a frosty glass of Pinot Grigio.

Of course, you can make the tomato pie without bacon, but honestly, once you taste it, you'll understand why the bacon belongs nestled next to the tomatoes. It's salty and savory and defines the flavor of summer. Take a bite, chase it with the chilly wine...divine.

So quick--grab those last tomatoes. I promise this tomato pie will make you feel like it's hammock and beach season--at least mentally.

What is the summer food that you miss most in the winter?

Enjoy!

XOXO ~

Julie

Invasion of the Giant Cucumbers.

July in the South Carolina vegetable garden—particularly if you've been traveling for two weeks—is not the happiest place. Although our son's girlfriend diligently fed the animals and watered the gardens, some tasks—like weeding and cutting out dead foliage—had to wait until I returned.

After petting the pups and checking on the chickens, the first place I headed when we arrived home was to the large veggie garden to check on its progress.

Big mistake.

Tomato vines sporting nasty black spots.

Lettuce, underplanted in the tomato beds, now bolting and leggy.

Beans trellising up neighboring raspberry bushes.

And cucumber vines spilling over their bed, oblivious to the trellises, sprawling throughout the garden and blanketing the herb beds, the kids' raised bed, and the path through the garden.

I searched desperately for my inner Zen.

When that didn't work, Peter turned me around, and we headed back toward the house. After all, attacking an unruly garden while in the throes of jet lag isn't a smart strategy.

(Honestly, my tired brain screamed, “Rip it all out!” I'm glad I waited a bit.)

Truly, though, even with the ugliness of the garden, the harvest is pretty amazing.

Especially the cucumbers.

We arrived home to a produce-drawer full of cucumbers harvested by our house-sitter.

Exciting! Honestly, last year, our cucumbers flopped.

The next day, I harvested these:

And yesterday, as I cut back vines and attempted to whip the garden back into shape, I found these:

Holy cucumbers.

I love cucumbers. The kids actually eat cucumbers without complaint, too, which is miraculous. And I especially adore the fact that my calorie counter shows that a cup of cucumbers equals 16 calories. 

I could eat 75 cups of cucumbers to reach my daily calorie intake!

That's a LOT of cucumbers.

Hoping to add a little variety to my diet, I enlisted my friends over at the Garden Delights Facebook page for recipe ideas.

“Pickles,” of course, topped the list of recommendations.

I've promised Mikey that we'd attempt to make pickles, since he is a pickle fiend. I've never canned, but 2012 will be the year I learn to can.

Thankfully, our local farmers' market received a grant this year to teach canning. I'm planning to head there Saturday for my introduction to canning.

I'm ridiculously excited!

Until then, though, my friend Janet at The Queen of Seaford sent me the following recipe that I'm excited to try. Shrimp and cucumbers? How can you go wrong? What a perfect, light, cool summer dish. I believe this will be lunch today...

Cucumber and Shrimp Salad

One can (4.5 oz) shrimp, drained

2 medium cucumbers, thinly sliced

1/4 vinegar (can substitute rice or white wine vinegar)

1 tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon soy sauce

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds  (Heat sesame seed in ungreased skillet over medium heat for about 2 minutes until golden.)

Place shrimp and cucumbers in a bowl. Mix vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, and salt.... pour over cucumbers and shrimp. Cover and refrigerate at least one hour.

Remove to a lettuce lined bowl with slotted spoon. Sprinkle with sesame seeds and serve.

Tonight, though, I'm planning a family-favorite: chicken souvlaki with tzatziki sauce. It's so simple—and everyone likes it. (Well, the kids at least like the chicken. They'll have to eat their quota of cucumbers sliced instead of in the sauce.)

Chicken Souvlaki with Tzatziki Sauce

1 lb. chicken breast, cut into 1-inch cubes

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 tbsp. sea salt

1 tbsp. finely chopped fresh rosemary

In a large bowl, combine olive oil, sea salt, and rosemary. Add chicken and toss to thoroughly coat. Refrigerate for at least one hour.

For tzatziki sauce:

½ large cucumber, seeded and diced.

½ cup plain yogurt

1 tbsp. lemon juice

¼ tsp. salt

1 garlic clove, minced

Prepare tzatziki sauce while chicken is marinating. Combine cucumber, yogurt, lemon juice, salt, and garlic, stirring well. Set aside.

Place marinated chicken cubes on skewers, grill for approximately 5 minutes per side or until thoroughly cooked. Serve with the tzatziki sauce and pita bread.

And wine. The wine gives you strength to face the tasks in the garden.

I'm a little afraid to go back into the garden today for fear that I'll add to the cucumber collection—although I do plan to call our local food back to see if they can use some surplus cucumbers. (Do you know about ampleharvest.org? It's a great tool to help you find a local organization that can benefit from your surplus garden goodies.)

Do you have any favorite cucumber recipes? If you do...PLEASE share!

Otherwise, I might start a national “sneak-a-cucumber-on-your-neighbors'-porch day,” much like National Zucchini Day.

I think it's a good tradition, don't you?

Happy harvesting!

XO ~

Julie

What's for Dinner?

It's 4 p.m. Well, actually, 4:10 p.m. I should be thinking about what to feed my family tonight. Instead, I've spent about 40 minutes playing on Facebook, 10 minutes sorting photos, two minutes thinking that I really should clean the house, and about 30 seconds justifying why I'm not cleaning the house. I mopped our (very) sticky kitchen floor earlier, though. Whew. I'm worn out.

Anyway, I decided that while the kiddos are busy playing outside with friends, I would share with you why I'm not stressing about what's for dinner.

We have sauce. Lots and lots of sauce.

 
With our abundance of tomatoes this summer, I've been on a midnight sauce-making frenzy. I've decided it's a great method to cure insomnia by making sauce at 11:30 p.m. (Then, sleeplessness is no longer frustrating insomnia, because I'm actively working.) The weird inner dialogues that happen in my brain...

While our overload of tomatoes was one reason for making sauce, the real reason I wanted to stock up is for days like today. Today, I don't have one creative idea of what to feed my family that will not illicit grief from the kids. I thought about risotto, which Peter and I love...but the kids despise. I thought about chicken, but right now, I'm having an anti-chicken phase. (This happens every few weeks, after I've been reading sustainable farming literature. We buy organic chicken, but still...some days, I just can't go there.) So, rather than do our fallback routine of going out, which has become too frequent, too expensive, and too questionable regarding our waistlines...I'm pulling out the sauce.

Everyone eats the sauce.

It's healthy. It's delicious. It's homemade from organically raised produce. Even the garlic is from our garden, which personally—I find very cool. 

Garlic is good. Homegrown garlic is great.

So, because I feel your pain as the dinner hour approaches, I'm sharing my super easy, incredibly scrumptious sauce recipe. Get to the Farmer's Market tomorrow morning, 8 a.m. SHARP. Buy tons of tomatoes, if you haven't grown your own. Tell the farmer that you need delicious, organic tomatoes to make a big vat of sauce, and you might get a price cut. Locally, one vendor sold 25 pounds of tomatoes for $10. Granted, they weren't heirloom, but they were organic. Make sure you select nice, ripe tomatoes.

ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!

I am not a chef. I am not even a very good cook. My recipe is one that I found on Cooks.com, and then modified to meet our personal likes. Extra garlic. Extra oregano. Extra wine.

You get the picture.

The beauty of this sauce is that it's fail-proof. It's great on it's own, but it's also fabulous with extra goodies, like mushrooms, sausage, and peppers. I make the basic sauce and then add the extra ingredients later, as we're preparing the meal.

Ready? It's time to get to work!


First, plug your iPod into the dock and line up your favorite tunes. Your hands will be covered in tomato goo for the next hour, so choose your selections wisely. If your teenage son recently downloaded new albums to your iPod, you may want to preview them before you begin. (Our college boy usually selects pretty good albums for me, but sorry—I'm too old for “Elf Power.” Did I really just admit that? Yeesh.)


One of the biggest hassles in making sauce is peeling the tomatoes. Do you know the secret for easy peeling? If not, I'm going to tell you. You will thank me.

Peel tomatoes.
Fill a large pot with water and heat on high to boil. Fill another large container with cold water and ice. Make sure it's near the stove.

After washing your tomatoes,  slice a shallow “X” in the bottom (blossom) end of the fruit. 

When you've “Xed” the tomatoes, add them to the boiling water for about one minute. 

Using a slotted spoon, remove the tomatoes from the pot and plunge them into the bowl of ice water. The ice water stops the tomato from cooking and further loosens the skin.

Remove the cooled tomato. The skin should peel away easily. (FYI—this also works for ripe peaches.) 

 
Crazy-easy, huh?

De-seed tomatoes.
Really, this is optional. We just don't like a lot of seeds in our sauce. If you're pressed for time, you can skip this step...

Cut the peeled tomatoes through the center of the fruit—not through the stem end. Squeeze the seeds and juice into a bowl. 

DO NOT THROW THIS OUT—just set it aside. You won't eliminate all of the seeds, so don't stress about removing every last one.

Cut tomatoes. Chop, dice, whatever makes you happy.
Remove the stem with your knife. It's hard and nasty—you don't want it in your sauce. Chop the tomatoes. The size isn't too important—the tomatoes are going to cook down, but if you don't like large chunks in your sauce—you'll want smaller pieces. Set aside.

Strain the juice.
I'm not big on kitchen gadgets, but I have to admit—I truly love my food mill for times like this. (A year ago, I didn't know what a food mill was, so don't feel bad if you don't, either.)

The food mill is pretty fabulous. It has legs that support it over a bowl, so while you're pouring seedy juice into it, you don't have to try to balance the food mill at the same time. So—pour in the seeds, juice, pulp...crank the handle of the mill a bit until most of the liquid is in the bowl—and voila! 

Lovely juice without seeds.

If you don't have a food mill, a fine strainer will work.

(Note: you can use the food mill to process the entire tomato, and it will remove the skin, seeds, and everything...but I found it makes the sauce too thin.)

OK. Still there? The hardest part is DONE! YEA! Wash your hands, get the tomato goo out from under your nails, drink a little wine, and get ready to cook!

Onions, garlic, and olive oil, oh my.
Chop your onions and mince your garlic. We like a lot of garlic, so modify the amount to your taste.

Heat olive oil in a large sauce pan. Add the onions and garlic, cooking until soft. (Just a couple of minutes.)

The herbs.
If you have fresh basil and oregano—use it, your hands will smell wonderful! Chop the fresh basil and oregano until fine. If you don't have fresh herbs, dried works fine, too.

The rest.
Add the tomatoes and seed-free juice.... 

 
...the wine...

...and all remaining ingredients (salt, pepper, sugar, herbs, wine) to the pot. 

Stir well, cover, and bring to a boil on medium-high heat.
 
Once the sauce begins to boil, remove cover, reduce heat, and simmer for about three hours.

The most important step.
Cut or tear some good bread, and dip into the sauce every hour, just to make sure it's to your taste. You can always add more spices to suit your palate.

And finally—pour a large glass of wine, go sit down, and bribe your husband/significant other/roommate to clean up the kitchen. When he/she smells the sauce, you'll have a kitchen slave. (Except mine was out of town when I made the last batch. Boo.)

Winter days.

The greatest thing about this sauce is that it freezes beautifully. Wait for it to thoroughly cool, ladle the sauce into freezer-safe containers (size dependent on your needs), pop into the freezer—and you'll have the taste of summer all winter long.

And when the witching hour hits, you'll no longer wonder what's for dinner.

Enjoy!

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Homemade Tomato Sauce
¼ c. olive oil
6 cloves garlic, minced (modify to your taste—we like a lot of garlic)
2 medium onions, finely chopped
20+ ripe tomatoes, peeled, deseeded, and chopped
½ cup dry white wine
2 tsp. oregano
2 tsp. fresh basil, chopped
1 tbsp. sugar
2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pepper

In a large, heavy pot, heat olive oil on medium high. Add garlic and onions. Saute until soft.
Add all remaining ingredients to pot, mixing well. Cover, and cook until boiling over medium-high heat. Reduce heat, remove cover, and simmer for at least three hours. Stir occasionally.