Satsuma Season

Despite our dry spring and dry summer, our satsuma trees are loaded with sweet fruit.  These perfect small mandarin oranges have thin peels and hardly any seeds.  The cute boxes of Clementine oranges imported from Spain we see in our grocery stores right now cannot hold a candle to these juicy, ripe babies.  The kids helped their Daddy pick a wheelbarrow load, and it did not even make a dent in our crop.

 This happened to be a colder day here in Alabama, but we're back to wearing t-shirts today.

So what to do with extra satsumas?  Make a satsuma cake, for one. 

And of course, make marmalade.  Alton Brown's recipe turned out to be a good one, and it doesn't even require fruit pectin, so I didn't have to make a special trip to the store.  I--uhh--lightly browned the first batch, so I made a make-up recipe the next day to prove to myself that I could indeed tend a boiling pot.

Start with satsumas and one lemon.  I used my mini food processor to slice them, peels and all.

 Boil them with water for a long time.  This was an easy simmer that I stirred every ten minutes.

Add sugar and work out the lumps.

Boil again, watching carefully with a candy thermometer.  I used the suggested cold plate method for testing the thickness of the marmalade, since I didn't want flopped satsuma syrup like I've made in the past--with pectin.  Stick a saucer in the freezer until it is well chilled, then drop a teaspoon of marmalade on it.  Give it a minute, then tip the saucer to see if it's runny or ready.  Work on a Rubik's cube while standing in front of the stove.  It's good for both sides of your brain!

And in the secondary or tertiary meantime, prepare your jars.  I tucked in sprigs of rosemary and cinnamon sticks, hoping for a flavor infusion.

 Seal jars with a 10-minute water bath. 

Mmmm!!!  Write "English muffins" on the grocery list, and make a cup of tea.  Give the unsolved Rubik's cube to the kids.

Pretzel Chocolate Chip Cookies

Oh yes. I am one of those who loves a good salty-sweet combo. I admit to breaking pretzels into ice cream. I like leftover frosting schmeared between Ritz crackers. I love Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby--which involves peanut-butter-filled pretzel mix in. It doesn't take much to gain my affection.

Recently I got started on Pinterest, an online bulletin board system of keeping pictures that catch one's fancy from around the internet(s). (By the way, internet/internets, which is correct and why? Anyone?)

Last night I was browsing other people's recently pinned items and came across an absolutely fabulous idea--chocolate chip cookies with crushed pretzels baked into them.

Today I just had to make them. I waited until the kids were down for their rest, so I could work without interruption, and do a neater job of it in the process. But somehow this managed to happen: WHAT?! Yes. That is a bag of bread.
Apparently this is what can happen if you knock over your mixer, the switch hits a burner knob and the laid-over beaters start spinning with no one at the controls. Seriously, I cannot understand myself.

I dutifully chilled the dough, hoping to prevent the dreaded cookie spread. I carefully measured out dough, slightly flattened each mound and sprinkled away with Kosher salt.

The end result? I had to pour myself a glass of milk to find out. Then I had to brew a fresh pot of coffee to really find out. If YOU want to find out, here's my chicken-scratch recipe. But I wouldn't trust it. I still can't remember if I used baking soda like I was supposed to, or if I grabbed the baking powder instead.
Here's the link to the real cookie genius.

Dirt

When your Daddy is a farmer and has to fix a part on a tractor, grain drill, or disk, you beg to go to work with him. When your Mommy is grumpy and needs a break at the same time, she will look at your Daddy and do something funny with her eyebrows. It will work almost every time.

When you come home from school on a Friday afternoon and your Mommy discovers you have a fever, and then your sister gets a fever too, your Mommy will be sad at having to miss a wedding that night. You were going to have to take a bath and get all dressed up. She will also be sad about having to miss her date with Daddy the next night. You were going to play at a friend's house, and you are very sad too. And then your Mommy will say that it's time to make pig cookies again, and that she is glad she can take care of you. But she will fuss about the crumbs on the floor.


Cute Pig Cookies

1 c. butter or margarine, softened (I use part butter and part Crisco)
1 1/2 c. sugar
2 eggs
1 c. sour cream
1 t. vanilla
3 c. all-purpose flour
1 t. baking powder
1/2 t. salt

Frosting:
1/2 c. butter, melted
4 c. powdered sugar
2 t. vanilla
6 T. milk
3-4 drops red food coloring

Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs, sour cream and vanilla; mix well. Combine dry ingredients; add to creamed mixture and mix well. Drop by tablespoonfuls onto ungreased baking sheets. Bake at 375 for 10-12 minutes or until edges are lightly browned. Cool.

Decorate cookies with frosting, pink sugar wafer cookies, halved large marshmallows and Reese's candy bar sprinkles or whatever you can find at the store.

Oink away.

Local Meal

While I was slaving in the kitchen last night, figuring out how to cut up a chicken from Green Acres Farm that Jason himself helped to harvest and therefore got free (please excuse the chicken butt view),

scrubbing my new red potatoes from the garden, mincing the fresh rosemary that Helen picked from the herb bed,
slicing and seeding jalapeno peppers from my mother in law's garden with my hand in a baggie, measuring out a decadent concoction of cream cheese, cheddar cheese and bacon, whirring a stale crust of homemade bread in the food processor,
nuking freezer corn from last year's crop in the microwave (which we seasoned with leftover pepper popper stuffing), and making sweet tea, the kids kept themselves busy impersonating me.
Can you guess what they are doing?
They also argued, cried, jumped up and down, shouted excitedly, expressed their approval over the upcoming sweet tea, laughed, crawled around, grabbed my feet and ankles, pushed each other a little bit, endured verbal chastisement and a time out, turned down their lower lips, got over it, and asked what we were doing tomorrow a thousand times, not necessarily in that order.
The potatoes were crunchy. The corn was yummy, of course. The chicken was lovely, but the kids balked at having to eat it off the bone. Must be taking after their daddy. The jalapeno appetizer became an after-tizer, because I started it way too late.

And because I was still recovering from all that crazy work, tonight we ate leftover chili from the freezer, along with more stale bread, toasted and spread with jam to cover it up. (No, I couldn't even lift my finger to make corn bread.)

Thanks, Deb, for the local food idea!

All he wanted was a little IHOP

Grandpa W. turned 84 yesterday! For his birthday, he wanted to go to IHOP. He had seen the commercials, and their relentless tantalization worked. Score one for slick advertising! Those ads work on me too. I love pancake restaurants.

Since it didn't work for anyone to go to IHOP with him on his actual birthday, his granddaughter Lynette planned an in-house pancake event. She, Janice and I whisked together a scrumptious brunch of pancakes, sausage and fresh fruit.

It was a very fun time, and Grandpa and Grandma got to enjoy a few of their great grands too. We took 6 of our 8 kids along; Jack and Allison stayed at their Grandma's house for morning naps. The kids paraded in and presented him with hand-made construction paper cards. It only added to the excitement of his birthday, since he had already had ten phone calls for birthday wishes, and it was only 9 am.
Before brunch and sticky syrup mouths: Ava, Helen and Brian are in front. Owen, PawPaw and Blake in back.
PawPaw's pancakes, complete with pineapple topping and that magical swoosh of Redi-Whip. Ava was the driving force behind the birthday candle.
PawPaw pretended he couldn't blow out his candle, and Blake could hardly stand it! Grandpa's TV tray held all the essentials--food, drink, phone, TV remote, list of people who had called with birthday greetings and special napkin holder made from a dish soap bottle--Grandpa's sister makes all sorts of recycled crafts. This one even had "Happy Birthday" embossed on it.
These kids did so well, I couldn't believe it. We borrowed my mother in law's little table and chairs, and I think that was one of the keys--that and light breakfasts. Owen holds the eating record with 2 1/2 pancakes. I think he out-ate every single person, adults included.
Helen, MawMaw and Aunt Net's cute piggy-toes and sandal. Hey, it was upper 70s! Not that I'm bragging or rubbing that in anyone's face.

And finally, my pancake recipe, originally from Miserly Moms, tweaked by me:

2 eggs
2 1/2 c. buttermilk or sour milk
4 t. melted butter or vegetable oil
2 1/2 c. flour (1 c. w/w flour, 2 c. all-purpose, 1/2 c. oatmeal, my tweak)
2 t. sugar
1 t. baking soda
3 t. baking powder
1 t. salt

Beat together until smooth. Spoon onto hot, greased griddle. Flip over when bubbles appear.

Coupla tips: I don't beat the fire out of the batter. I mix it with a spatula until I don't see any more flour. And then, it turns out better if you let it rest for a few minutes at this point. That way, you don't get super-thick pancakes at the beginning and super-runny ones at the end. And, I never had any luck with pancakes until I bought a nonstick electric griddle. And even with the "nonstick," it does better with a few teaspoons of oil before each new batch of pancakes. I drop blueberries and chocolate chips into each pancake, rather than stirring them into the batter. That way, the batter isn't dedicated to any one flavor. My exception is pecans. Those are best mixed in. And sometimes, I mash up a banana and mix that in. One time I mixed in pumpkin, but those were a little weird. Then, I freeze leftover pancakes and heat them a few at a time in the microwave for a fast breakfast on other mornings. The End.

Today's recipes

This is as inspiring as it got around here today:

Playgroup Granola Bars (I happened to make these AFTER our 2-year-old guest left.)

2 c. rolled oats
3/4 c. packed brown sugar
1/2 c. wheat germ
1 t. cinnamon
1 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 c. raisins
3/4 t. salt
1/2 c. honey
1 egg, beaten
1/2 c. vegetable oil
2 t. vanilla

Mix dry ingredients and raisins. Make a well and add rest of ingredients. Pat mixture evenly into a greased 9x13" pan. Bake for 30-35 minutes at 350 degrees. Cool for 5 minutes, then cut into bars. (Don't let them cool for hours in the pan, unless you want to nearly break your spatula prying them out.)

Owen could hardly keep his hands off, and kept telling me he needed another 'nola bar. I wonder if I could slip some peas into my next batch? ha ha

Supper was a wonderful concoction:

Donna's Crab Meal

3 T. butter
3 T. flour
1 1/2 c. milk
1 c. cheddar cheese
1/2 pkg. imitation crab meat
dash garlic salt
dash garlic powder
dash pepper
dash cayenne pepper
1 tsp. lemon juice

Make a roux with the butter and flour, then add milk and rest of ingredients. Serve over rice.

I named this recipe after a very kind lady who sent this supper home with us after she watched Owen for a day while I was at working out my notice after he was born. (I would hate diagraming that sentence.) It's famous around our house now, and it's a great thrifty way to eat seafood.

This evening I used *real!* crab found for a deal at Winn Dixie, and for the record, real lemon juice squeezed from a real lemon. I bought a bag of already boiled snowcrab legs, so I had the opportunity to improve my crab-leg-cracking skills. Helen watched in admiration of the process, gulped up lumps of meat I set aside for her, and announced greedily many times over, "I need more." If you ever get the chance to order snow crab legs at a restaurant that knows how to cook seafood, take it. Swallow your pride, take off your rings, roll up your cuffs and get to work. It is sooo worth it.

Cheesecake ahead

Confession: I've never made a cheesecake before--GASP!!

Two reasons: 1) Jason is just not that into cheesecake, but I am, and I didn't want a graham-cracker-crumb-covered, 3-blocks-of-cream-cheese pie in my fridge and me with a fork in my hand. 2) It intimidated me because too much was at stake; expensive ingredients, the better part of a morning, my *cough-cough* cooking reputation--all could go up in smoke, and I could end up with a dry, tasteless, cracked-top cheesecake that nobody but the compost pile would want to eat.

Saturday I faced my fears and tried this.

I made it for Jason's family Christmas, and nobody has died yet.