Tag: baking

Cookies? We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Cookies

I tried. I really did. Someone gave us a sugar cookie kit for Christmas, so I dug out the cookie sheet from its hiding place beneath the kitchen island. I found a cooking rack, so the cookies could relax for a while when they came out of the oven. I even dug out the rolling pin I received as a gift thirty or so years ago. I purchased cookie cutters thinking that finally, at the advanced age of 66 I’d be able to successfully roll out dough and cut it into Christmas shapes.

Following the explicit directions on the package, I mixed the dough until it clogged the beaters on my mixer. I scraped it out of the beaters with a knife, then rolled it into a large ball and chilled it for over an hour.

Then I sprinkled flour on my workspace and rolling pin and on my hands and the cat and every other place I could think of. I even dabbed some behind my ears for good measure. I began to roll.

The dough was uncooperative. I used more flour. I rolled and rolled until the dough surrendered and allowed me to cut a snowman. Alas, the snowman fell apart when I attempted to move it to the cookie sheet. The same thing happened with the Christmas tree and the candy cane.

Fine. I decided to just make round cookies. Apparently, my idea of a teaspoon sized ball is warped. And inconsistent. The cookies varied wildly in size. The cutest was just about a quarter of an inch in diameter. I ate it.

Studly Doright said they just need to be decorated. I handed him the icing. And washed my hands. We don’t need no stinkin’ cookies.

Peace, people.

It’s a Sign

A baker of ill-repute, such as myself, looks for signs and omens anywhere she can while engaged in culinary endeavors. So I’m taking this heart to heart this morning as I prepare the ingredients for a single pecan pie for Studly and me to enjoy on Christmas Day. Since I literally put all my eggs into one basket, er pie, I’ll welcome all the good vibes I can get.

May all your baking efforts be similarly blessed this holiday season.

Peace, people!

Pecan Pie Afternoon

I’m baking not one, but two, pecan pies this afternoon. They’re currently at that stage where they might be done or they might need to cook another few minutes.

That’s my least favorite part of baking—the wondering. In a perfect world. everything would have an exact time limit. For pecan pies the instructions might say, “Cook for 70 minutes at 350° F and voila!”

I tend to err on the side of caution, while Studly Doright errs on the side of, “A little bit too done is just right.” Some years when I’ve allowed him to control the process my pecan pies have ended up with the consistency of a Goodyear tire. But when I’m in charge, the pie often is best eaten with a spoon.

That used to drive me crazy, but nowadays, que sera sera! Whatever will be, will be.

https://youtu.be/

Peace, people!

Baking and Candy Making

My mother had a good many skills in the kitchen, and while none of her abilities were passed on to me, at least once a year I was tapped to assist in her culinary endeavors. I’m sure I did so under protest because I was such a klutz at cooking and baking and candy making, and Mom was not a patient soul.

She’d cluck and shake her head and give me looks that would’ve withered a lesser soul, but Freida Hall didn’t scare me. Okay, I was scared sh*tless most of the time while working in the kitchen with Mom, but I had no choice if I wanted to continue living under her roof. My brothers both turned out to be quite proficient in preparing food, so maybe the fault was all mine.

What did we make? Martha Washington candies, chocolate covered cherries, and divinity. We baked cranberry bread and pumpkin bread, and banana nut bread. If it was a fruity bread, we baked it. We made a pecan nut roll that defied all of Mom’s attempts at perfection and only turned out divine once in every ten attempts.

Here’s a recipe for Martha Washington candy similar to the one Mom and I used to make. You’ll be a big hit if you take these to a gathering. It’s still the candy I remember most fondly.

Peace, people.

Baking for Dummy

IMG_0162.JPG

At Studly’s request I am making two pecan pies from semi-scratch. I don’t/can’t make my own pie crusts, but everything else in the pies is 100% homemade. As much as such things can be homemade–I mean I didn’t grow the sugar cane, nor did I create the Karo Syrup–Mr. Karo must’ve done that. And I didn’t lay or collect the eggs; I’m kind of afraid of small farm animals, and I still haven’t learned the art of egg laying. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I didn’t mash up the vanilla beans for the extract, or grow and harvest the pecans, either.

In progress:

IMG_0209.JPG

I guess we can scratch the word scratch from that first sentence. All I did was assemble the ingredients, and from the smells emanating from my kitchen, I’d say these pies are done.

IMG_0210.JPG

%d bloggers like this: