Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Holiday Window Painting

We're painting the house.
Finally, the hideous peach-orange exterior,
like the big-bowed, satin prom dress of my Senior year
will be stripped, discarded, and sent away
to a place of fashion & style the world will never see again. (I hope.)
*
But, before the exterior of our abode is turned a deep, divine chocolate brown,
we're painting the house key lime green.
The windows arrayed with hues of emerald that sparkle in the sunshine
and leave shadows of shamrocks on my living room floor.
*
The activity kept the kids busy for the better part of yesterday afternoon.
Giving me time to kick back on the couch and marvel
at the big brushes in their pink fingers, at their furrowed brows and windblown hair.
Time to think fondly upon how very, very lucky I am.
*
Wishing you an afternoon of shamrock luck and smiles, too.
*
Simple Holiday Window Paint
It's easy to mix up a batch of this colorful paint. So easy, in fact, that you'll want to do it today, before St. Patty's day is over. Then, wash it off (it's easy to do that, too!) and paint again for April Fools Day, and Easter, and the middle of the month. There are so many reasons to celebrate! Why not pick up a brush & bowl and get a party on your windows right now?!
1/2 c. cornstarch
1/2 c. Dishwashing detergent or baby soap
1/2 c. water
Gel Food coloring
Stir all ingredients together slowly in a large bowl, until well mixed. Add more water if a thinner consistency is desired. This concoction washes off easily and won't stain your windows, but be sure to cover up any exposed wood around your window frames or on your baseboards. Enjoy!
Congrats to ScrewDestiny!
Author of THIS funtastic blog and winner of the

Shamrock Shortbread Tutorial


Looking to give my decorative
*
Here's a quick look at how to get a few fine designs
right into the center of your pretty lil' biscuits...

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Many of you have mentioned trying these cookies with other holiday designs inside.
Easter Eggs, Bunny Baskets, Fourth of July Fireworks! Love it!
I'd love to see the designs you create on your cookies.
Please send me photos or a link to your site so I can awe over your creations.
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Happy, Happy Cookie Making!

Sunday, March 14, 2010

St. Patty's Day Shortbread



Do wee lil’ leprechauns visit your house too?
Why, if they can’t be the most conniving little mischief-makers.
Sneaking into the fridgidaire, turning the milk green.
Hiding puzzle pieces ‘round the house which--once found--lead to golden treasure.
Getting their fingers into the cookie dough and turning it…
*
*
You thought I was going to say green, didn’t you?
Of course, leprechauns like the color green,
But they’re so much bigger than that.
{Despite them being eensy-teensy creatures.}
*
Size, however, does not limit ones color-palette appreciation skills. No, indeed.
The minute those sneaky Irish fellers get their hands on this simple, shortbread cookie dough,
*

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They roll it out and roll it up and make it the most magical of colors.
Reds and blues, purples and greens. And, gold. Aye, there must be gold.
Because, after all, isn’t that what leprechauns are all about?
A wee bit of magic, a mighty hope for treasure.
All the fixings that make for a day full of luck, and pinching, and merriment.
*
Happy St. Patty’s Day to you and yours.
May the luck of the Irish be sprinkled throughout your kitchentops.
*

St. Patty’s Day Shortbread
This is a quick and simple shortbread cookie recipe. The cookies bake up firm and crisp, maintaining the shape of whatever your decide to roll into the center of your sweets. To get the colors and shapes inside each of these cookies, I used a simple rolling technique to create a log of cookie dough, then sliced extremely thin cookies off of it. If you’ve ever made those slice ‘n bake polymer clay canes (or millefiori), you will have likely done a similar technique to get a pretty design inside the circle of clay. It takes some time to get the centers just.right, but isn't it worth it?! Just look at those fine little cookie sandwiches. You could nearly kiss them for good luck. But, why do that when you can simply gobble them up?
½ c. butter
½ c. sugar
½ c. light brown sugar
2 c. flour
Pinch of baking soda
¼- ½ c. water
Wilton gel colors
In a large bowl, combine butter sugars, flour and soda together with your hands. Add water as needed until dough is pliable, but not too sticky. Separate dough into small balls and knead in various Wilton gel colors. To create designs for the center of each cookie, I simply rolled the dough into small “ropes” then gently layered them together, and rolled them into the center of several white strips of dough. To do this most properly, keep the dough from getting too floury. That’s the most important part of this process. Keeping it just moist enough to stick together and working the dough gently. Ever so gentle. If you’re interested in more details on how to get the specific designs, I can post a photo tutorial on Tuesday or Wednesday.
Once you’ve got your “cane” or “log” of dough, place it in the freezer for about 20 minutes. You don’t want it too terrible frozen, but you don’t want it warm and bloppy, either. Remove the cold log from the freezer and use a very sharp knife to slice off EXTREMELY thin slices. (Approx. 2-3 centimeters thick, if your dough & knife will allow it.)
Bake slices on an ungreased cookie sheet, in an oven preheated to 325 degrees for 6-8 minutes. Edges should not be browned, but centers should be cooked through. Remove from heat & allow to cool. Fill cookies with Vanilla-Butter Cookie Crème.
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Vanilla-Butter Cookie Crème
Vanilla? Butter? Need I say more?! Whip this up just before you need to fill the centers of your shortbread. Because you are using melted butter to make the crème, the mixture will thicken as it cools. To achieve a nice, smooth edge on my crème, I plopped the freshly-beaten icing into a large Ziploc, then piped it onto each cookie.
½ c. butter, melted
4 c. powdered sugar
1 T. clear vanilla flavoring
1 ½ T. milk
In a large mixing bowl, whip all ingredients together until very smooth. Pipe into the center of cooled shortbread cookies, then smash a second cookie on there to make a delectable, gorgeous cookie sandwich.
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Can we swap lucky wishes this week?
It just so happens I need YOU to help make all my dreams come true.
*
Have you been watching Iron Chef, the Food Network, American Idol
over the last several weeks and seen a vaguely familiar face pop up during commercial time?
Why, yes! That's me and my warbly pipes singing soulful praises alongside Megan Mullaly.
It's been a BLAST being a part of the Turn the Tub Around campaign,
but now, things are getting as hot as an Irish pub at midnight.
Voting for my I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter music video begins today.
Will you help me emerge from the singing arena victorious?
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to oogle my hyper-ruffly apron, giggle at my singing voice, and Vote.
(Oh, vote. Please, please, please vote.)
I'm heading into this round as the underdog, having lost last time by a handful of percentage points, so I truly thank you for taking the time to send in a mouse-click for me.
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To thank you for voting,the wonderful lads & lassies of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter
have put together this incredible prize package for one lucky commenter, which includes:
- Crate & Barrel serving platter
-Crate & Barrel Spreader & spatula
-$25 gift certificate to purchase all the ingredients.
*
To win, just CLICK HERE to vote, then stop back by, leave a comment
and tell me what magical plans ye've got up yer kilt for St. Patty’s day!
*

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Coach's Oats Sour Cherry Crumble



The next two weeks around these parts are going to get a little feisty.
Think of it as a reciped version of West Side Story
Where the Jets arrive in flour-splotched aprons for a dance off against the pleasantly plump Sharks.
And, while I know there is not one amongst us who desire catfights, foodfights, or jello wrestling,
I most certainly feel the need to defend my home turf. Or, rather...my oventop.
So, the gauntlet (or, rather...the wooden spoon) has been thrown down and I plan to pick it up, mix it up, and claim victory.
But, I'm going to need your help.
Next week, I go back into the I Can't Believe It's Not Butter sing-off arena as the forlorn underdog.
I lost the last fight, lost it good, and hope you'll help me log a win in this final round.
{More details arriving soon...}
Several weeks ago, I was contacted by my favorite steel-cut oat company, Coach's Oats.
It seems the folks at POM had challenged them to a battle of grits, groats, and gumption.
Could Coach's Oats pummel POM in a head-to-head competition of recipe making?
Coach's asked me to help create a prizewinning recipe, and I most delightfully accepted.

After mixing up several batches of treats which incorporated both Coach's Oats and 100% POM juice, the folks at Coach's decided that the triple-layered Coach's Oat's Crumble was ready for the fight. With a buttery, bottom layer of steel-cut oats and crushed walnuts, a pomegranate-cherry center, and a heavy second coat of brown-sugared oats, I think we may just have ourselves a winner. But, we're going to need your vote.

CLICK BELOW to see the "RUMBLE OF THE CRUMBLES" live!
Get the recipe, place your vote, help us show POM who really rules these sugar-dusted streets.

Sunday, March 07, 2010

Bite-Size Beignets

I've been waking to a terrifying thought these last several mornings.
It often sneaks its way into my mind during middle moments.
You know, those moments where you're neither awake nor asleep.
*
If you must know, the entire thing started in the ladies locker room at the YMCA,
{which happens to be one of the finest places in the world.}
In fact, I discover all sorts of wonders about life, and living, and womanhood there.
Amaing, isn't it, what you can learn from a room full of naked, old ladies?
*
*
So, it seems the YMCA locker-room is also the birthplace of my constant, nagging morning thought.
*
It was there, where, upon leaving the shower room,
I found myself fresh out of the shower, shuffling behind a seventy-something woman toward my locker.
She had cellulite from hither to yon and the biggest back moles any human has ever owned.
Her shoulders were freckled. Her hair was grey.
Instantly the thought came,
"Oh. my. gosh. This is it, isn't it?"
*
No matter how vibrantly I smile for pictures, no matter how tightly I hold my children,
no matter how heartily I knead bread, no matter how purely I kiss my husband,
I'm headed straight for cellulite, freckles, and a back full of giant moles.
*
*
*
The thought struck instantly with a tinge of horror heading straight into my bosom
(a bosom which I now know will inevitably teeter between my belly button and arthritic knees in no time at all).
It sounds rather ridiculous now, but at the time the realization hit hard. I don't know why, but it did.
*
*
Which brings me to where I am now.
Mornings, lying somewhere between reality and dream, those words running themselves again and again through my brain,
*
This is it, isn't it?
*
Dusting the cobwebs of sleep from my eyelashes, I press rested feet to the floor and rise to the brilliant yellow of a new day.
This is it, isn't it?
*
I creep into the dark rooms of four sleeping children and kiss them tenderly awake.
This is it, isn't it?
*
I draw the family around a kitchen table, polka-dotted with yard-sale plates, and a heaping breakfast I baked with my own hands.
This is it, isn't it?
*
I shoo husband to work, babes to school, plunk myself around apile of laundry. Fold, pleat, iron, and straighten the house into submission, working to prepare a warm welcome for evening time when they all return home to me again.
This is it, isn't it?
*
I feed, read, bathe, pray, hold, bandaid and tuck my little lot of loved ones into their beds. Melt, exhausted ,onto our worn mattress, rest my head upon hubby's, drift to sleep with a list of things I didn't get done today sitting steadily upon my nightstand.
Then, I wake up and do it all again.
This is it, isn't it?
*
Yes. This is it.
But, of course. I already knew that.
Because, while I was pondering the freckles and moles and hunched shoulders of the woman at the YMCA,
She stopped in her tracks. Stopped, right there, enroute from the shower. Dripping wet and naked, she turned slowly toward me.
Her eyes were blue. They shined. They sparkled. They smiled.
She winked at me.

*"Sorry, darling. I'm a little slow these days. But, I'm still kicking."
That is so good, I told her. I winked back.
*
I slowed my pace even more and savored the walk back to my metal locker. I pondered a back bent under work. Shoulder rounded from giving hugs. Freckles arriving from summers on the beach.
*
This is it. Isn't it?
Waking up. Getting Up. Working hard. Eating right. Tasting life.
Kissing, tucking, growing, learning, getting, giving, letting go.
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall.
Diets and cake and kisses sweet.
Tears and treats and bunioned feet.
A lifetime of experiences that make your eyes smile.
*
Yep. This is it.
And, it's so good.
*
Big, hairy moles and all.

Bite-Sized Beignets
with a sprinkling of Citrus Spiced sugar
These soft, sweet & puffy pieces of fried yeast dough are often found sitting under piles of powdered sugar. Though your waistline won't want you to eat them oft, you can knead up a batch in a matter of minutes, then plop the dough into a gallon-sized, lightly oiled ziploc bag and let it rise in the fridge overnight. Wouldn't a plate full of hot beignets, a bowl of banana's and a supful of cocoa make the perfect remedy for this final plague of chilly winter mornings? Yes. Yes, indeed. Add to the usual platter of powdered-sugar coated beignets a heavy dusting of homemade citrus-spiced sugar, and you may just discover that you're a morning person after all.
1 c. very warm water
1 T. yeast
2 (5 oz.) cans evaporated milk
1/2 c. sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
2-4 c. flour
3 c. + 3 T. vegetable oil
In a large bowl, combine the warm water and yeast. Stir in sugar. Add milk, sugar, eggs, salt, and vanilla. Add 2 c. of flour to the bowl and stir until a thick batter is formed. Continue to add flour until a soft dough forms. Knead dough, adding just enough flour to keep it from being sticky. Pour 3 T. of vegetable oil over the top of the dough, cover and let rise 1 hour. (If you plan to make them in the morning, just plop the dough into a gallon-sized ziploc bag & stick it in the fridge until you're ready to fry the dough in the morning.) Once you are ready to fry the dough, heat 3 c. of vegetable oil in a large pot over medium heat. Roll risen dough very thin, cut into small rectangles, then carefully drop dough into hot oil. Fry on one side just until puffy and barely brown, then turn and fry on the other side. Remove from heat, place on a large platter lined with paper towels. Once all dough has been fried, sprinkle the mound of cooked beignets with Citrus-Spiced sugar, then generously sprinkle with powdered sugar. Enjoy!
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Citrus Spiced Sugar
Sweet, perfect sugar with the slightest zing of warm, glorious flavor.
1 c. sugar
Zest of 1 lemon
Zest of 1 orange
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. nutmeg
In a small bowl, combine all ingredients together. Sprinkle atop warm beignets. Sprinkle on toasted, buttered bread. Sprinkle in your bath water, in your bed, and on your bunions. Yum.
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Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Pantry Art



I rarely fancy myself the crafty sort.
When one* can pull out a bowl and bake a batch of cupcakes
In eighteen to twenty-four minutes,
Then frost, sprinkle, and share the entire batch
With oneself and a handful of beloved small people,
One sometimes forget that hands are significantly useful
for more than just cracking eggs, whisking, pouring, and stuffing ones face.
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(* namely...me.)
*
Which is why I'm especially grateful for two uber-crafty influences in my life.
The first being sweet Caroline from Salsa Pie,
who turned me onto the silhouette stylings of Hugo Guinness.
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Guinness' deliciously simple artwork inspired my recent
Make-The-Pantry-Space-As-Useful-As-Possible Makeover.
Innit pretty?!
Serene is more like it. Intelligent. Haute. Artful. Even fanciful.
(a good many things which I am, quite typically, not. Thanks so much, Salsa Pie for the inspiration!)
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The project was also ever, ever so easy.
Our marker collection has never before maintained contact with matching lids for so long a period. It seems having a secure, divinely decorated spot for craft thingys actually helps them keep in their place all the more. Who knew?!
*
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I'm also equally inspired and delighted by
crazy-awesome craftrepenuer, Kim, owner of the webs best DIY resource
('I can make THIS?!' I squeal everytime I visit the site, looking at my batter-laden hands with astonishment. Put down the butter, girl! Pick up the scissors! Snip! Sew! Create! Yes, indeed, I do say this to myself. I'm legitimately trying to develop my inner craft diva between baking sessions. It would be so much more motivating if crafts were edible, sugar-laden, and butter smothered, wouldn't it?)
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Now, Kim, and identical twin sister, Kris have teamed up to create
which will bring the latest & greatest DIY projects, reviews & how-to's online.
(And, seriously. How MUCH do these two look like Marie Osmond?!)
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CLICK HERE to visit The DIY Dish website
where you can learn how to win one of two, incredible Janome sewing mLinkachines.
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And, just for good measure, let's have a giveaway of our own, shall we?

Leave me a comment and let me know
What website most inspires you to create?
And, you'll be entered in a random drawing to win a batch of these adorable Work Of Art Clips.

Yummy. Yummy.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Crackerbread Pizza

I'm in love.
*
I'm in love with the dark-haired man upstairs
whose plane landed moments ago in our city
returning him from a whirlwind trip to Washington state.
I was so excited to see him, I babbled incoherently the whole way home
telling him of minute details he'd missed in his absence.
Shopping excursions and church gaffe's and funny phone messages.
*
At one point I looked over at the poor dear
and saw him shake a glazey-distant look from his tired eyes.
Still, I kept spilling my beans.
His presence was delectable. His listening ear divine.
I realized how much I'd missed him
How very ravishingly I love him.
And so I talked one ear off then started on the other.
Soon I shall kiss those ears in the very same order.
*
*
*
I don't know.
Perhaps this final week of February has gotten the better of me.
One last blow by Cupid's bow, or something of the sort.
I've fallen in love with so many things these past seven days.
A fat, holiday baby with a sheath of arrows is the only clear explanation.
*
After all, there are the three empty notebooks--one green, one blue, one purple--upon my nightstand. They make me smile like a schoolgirl everytime I imagine the wonders I will write within thier crisp, lined pages.
*
Then, there are the clean sheets which I sprinkled heavily with baby powder before laying them tightly upon my children's beds. Have you ever tucked four people you love into lilac-smelling bedsheets? You have not lived until you do.
*
You'd think a broken dishwasher would be cause for disdain. Not so! I've taken up talking to it, thanking it nightly in dulcet tones for allowing me a kitchen sink full dishes waiting to be done. Dishes mean soap. Soap means bubbles. I love a kitchen sink full of bubbles. Love it, I say!
*
I loved every minute of a lengthy chat with one blonde-haired sister. To buy us some talk time, she'd hoisted her toddlers up for fingerpainting on the bathroom mirror. Their tiny voices burbled in the background and, boy! did I fall in love. With them. With their good, sweet mama. Gracious, hooey. I love my sisters.
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I loved the sad, sweet silence that filled our home when dear friends Diana Barry & The Englishman left for the airport after a weekend stay. I loved it, because it reminded me of the moments before when glorious laughter and ever-so-slightly irreverent joy had abundantly knit itself around walls and ceiling and souls.
*
And, then there is this pizza.
I'm in love with this pizza.
I'm trying to control how much I love this pizza.
But, it's very, very difficult, mind you.
Very difficult, indeed.
*
Which, I figure is just about perfect timing.
Now that cupid's monthly employment has ended, I'm willing to step in as Miss March.
Plump, in love, and full of a daily dose of crackerbread pizza.
I think I'd make a very fine post-Valentine mascot.
Though, I'm gonna need a bigger set of wings.
*
A much, much bigger set of wings.

Homemade Crackerbread
(or Perfect Thin Pizza Crust)
If you've ever shied away from homebaking yeast breads, now is the time to take the plunge and try your hand at it. This recipe is tremendously simple, entirely foolhardy, and wildly, wildly delicious. Once you've cooked up a batch of crackerbread, the possibilities are endless, really. Top them with cream cheese and a bit of pepper jelly for a beautiful appetizer. Smear them with a dollop of butter and cinnamon-sugar for a divinely quick dessert. Or, make pizza. Oh! Please do make pizza. I promise you will fall in love. Madly, wondrously, entirely in love. Pull out those leftover Valentines cards. You might want to write your pizza and bespeak your utter admiration for it's simple, crunchy crust and fresh, flavor-packed toppings. X.O.X.O.X.O
1 1/2 c. very warm water
1 Tbsp. yeast
1 1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 c. whole wheat flour
3-4 c. white flour
2 Tbsp. olive oil
In a large bowl, dissolve yeat into water. Stir in whole wheat flour. Begin adding in white flour, stirring to mix. When dough begins to form itself into a ball, add flour a sprinkle at a time just until it's soft and no longer sticky (but not stiff!). Knead until it makes a nice, elastic ball. Pour oil atop. Cover bowl with a dishrag and allow dough to rise for 1 hour.
Separate dough into 2-3 inch balls. Press onto an ungreased cookie sheet until very, very thin (almost translucent). Pierce with a fork. Bake in an oven preheated to 500 degrees for about three minutes, or just until the crackerbread begins to brown.
Serve warm, top immediately with pizza ingredients and bake, or store in a ziploc bag for up to one week. No matter how you decide to serve it, this crackerbread will delight you to pieces!
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Crackerbread Pizza
Once you've baked your crackerbread to a light crisp, you are ready to top it with this simple melange of flavors. Like a kitchen sink and soap bubbles, these simple ingredients are simply meant to be together. The crack of the crust, the warm, pungent cheese, the juicy tomatoes, the fresh sprinkled basil. Truly. This is a match made in heaven.
1 c. asagio cheese, shredded
1 c. fresh mozzarella, diced
1/2 c. cherry tomatoes, diced
1/4 c. fresh basil, chopped
salt & pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Sprinkle cheese, mozzarella and tomatoes over baked crackerbread. Salt and pepper lightly. Bake on a cookie sheet for 5-7 minutes, or until cheese has just begun to bubble around the edges. Remove from oven, top with fresh basil. Serve immediately.

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Biggest thanks to the 120 of you who shared INCREDIBLE brown-bag lunch ideas last week.
I was absolutely blown away by your comments and your creativity. Thank you so much for sharing.
I'm pleased to announce that the winner of the Let's Do Lunch Bag drawing is
Hurrah!! Please drop me a line with your contact info and your prize will be on it's way!

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Brown Bag Blues

There are certain fears you have as a mother.

There is the fear of street crossing, park playing, bones breaking. There is the fear of strangulation by window blinds. Swallowing swimming water. Breathing while sleeping. There is watching bad movies, making good friends, making the most of each moment. Falling off beds, falling down stairs, falling in love.

There are also lesser known fears which arrive with the territory of motherhood. These are they which somehow remain unregulated by the government, do not have the well-intentioned support of non-profit organizations, nor do they find their way on Oprah or the front pages of the New York Times. And yet.

They are real. And they are terrifying.

There is the fear that (at eleven minutes to midnight) your dentist will spot you cruising the aisles of WalMart with four children in pajama's, two gallons of ice cream, and eight bags of Peanut M&M's. There is the fear that, when tucked into the silver folding chairs of their Sunday School class, your twins will proceed to burp, twice mention the term "underwear," and sing a song about being "buck naked". You worry that your girls will mold into the purple leather couch during their 6-hour Mary Kate & Ashley Movie Marathon on a particularly lazy, snowy Saturday. That your boys will never learn to throw their dirty jeans, dirty socks or dirty kleenex's into appropriate receptacles. That the second-round of pet-store fishes will die, that the fresh-baked cupcakes will fall face-first into the gravelly school parking lot, that the science fair project will take over the kitchen table, five long weekends, and your thin veil of sanity.

Yes, my fellow mothers. There is much for us to fear.

(cream cheese & jelly sandwiches, fresh pear, popcorn and m&m's)

Yet, in my mind, there is no fear more persistent or consistent that the one that occurs every morning at 7 a.m. when it's time to pack up school lunches. The task is terrifyingly complex. Andrew doesn't like peanut butter. Becca won't eat tuna. The twins aren't allowed anything which induces burping or buck-nakedness. "Weird Stuff" is waaaay too embarrassing for the middle-schooler to unpack in the lunchroom, "Nasty Stuff" (like applesauce and carrot sticks) get tossed into the trash by my uber-picky carnivore.

(hot dog & cheese picks, whole apple, homemade cheerio-cranberry-peanut-mini.gummy.bear trail mix)

It's a conundrum, I tell you--packing up the perfect balance of healthy, edible treats approved by both mother and children--and it happens five mornings a week. Somehow, right about mid-school year, the task arrives with even more sludgelike drudgery than usual. It becomes uncreative, uninspired, unedible. (Oh, okay. INedible.) After all, we've been making school lunches every day for six months straight and it starting to be the downright doldrums.

(hard boiled eggs with a salt-pepper-and.pinch.of.cayenne rub, blood orange, yogurt)

Which is why I've decided it's time to pep up our school lunch routine.

(melted-cheese quesadilla roll-ups, cheese & salt sprinkled bell pepper flowers slices, lightly toasted cinnamon-sugar tortilla triangles.)

Determined to pack quick, healthy, colorful, kid-friendly offerings, I've been keeping a list of our favorite "fun" lunches and figured it was about time I share.

(tomato-basil pasta salad, a full-sized carrot...those baby ones are soooo 1999, graham crackers with homemade buttercream frosting)

After all, we mom's have enough to be afraid of.

(Like having the school lunch-ladies bear witness to the meal your kids packed all by themselves...)

Good thing I know where to find the dentist around midnight.

How do you keep the Brown Bag Blues away?

Leave a comment and let me know all about your best brown-bag lunch secrets. (Or your worst mommy fear.) Your comment will automatically enter you in a random drawing for one of these GORGEOUS Let's Do Lunch Bags.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Pollyanna Cupcakes


*
Glad this. Glad That. Do you have to be glad about everything
~from the motion-picture, Pollyanna (1960)~
*
While crafting this blog entry, I've been interrupted five times.
*
(1)
Mom? Oh, Nevermind.
(the oldest son pats my back, sees that I'm blogging, and decides to wait)
*
(2)
So, are we eating cupcakes for supper?
(the hubby asks through his post-Sunday-nap grogginess.)
*
(3)
Do you like pancakes? Yes, I like pancakes.
Do you like waffles? Yes, I like waffles.
Do.do.do.doop. Can't wait to eat at Sonic...
(youngest son sings in my ear through a mouthful of cinnamon toast)
*
(4)
Mom? Did you get something for dad for Valentines day?
(Oldest son returns, unable to save his burning questions until the end of my blogging session)
Yes, I reply.
Oh, what did you get him?
A iTunes gift card, I say.
Oh, that's nice. What did he get you?
A workout jacket, I absentmindely say as I continue to craft a coherent sentence.
Oh, wow, Mom. That's great. Happy Valentines Day.
*
(5)
Mom? Can you come sit by me now?
(Oldest daughter calls from the couch, a warm spot waiting underneath her
*
Whoops. Did I say there'd been 5 interruptions?
*
Mom, I need a bandaid for my neck.
(Youngest daughter arrives at my side, chin stretched up high, pointing to a pale pink spot the size of atomic square pea which is, apparently, in dire need of medical intervention.)
*
Mom, this frog I colored is really good. Just look at it?
(Neck bandaged, youngest daughter now seeks a seasoned art critic to offer an opinion.)
*
Mom, do you want to do yoga with me?
(Youngest daughter shouts, now, from the living room. Art critic position now closed. Yogi master now needed.)
*
Mom, dad said I can stay up late tonight.
(Youngest son smiles through his fifth piece of cinnamon toast.)
*
Mom! They said this guy in the Olympics trained in Colorado Springs! Cool, huh?!
(Oldest son shouts from a sprawled position on the carpet, where youngest daughter is also now attempting the Half Moon pose.)
*
Life is busy.
Constant motion. Constant chaos.
Someone constantly needs to be fed, filled, snuggled, kissed, watched, warmed, worked with, loved.
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It makes me feel so very, truly glad to be
mother.
wife.
snuggler.
baker.
yoga buddy.
band-aider.
question-answerer.
cheerleader.
secret keeper.
art adorer.
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needed.
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So very glad, indeed.
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Perfectly Pollyanna Cupcakes
I've always related to the world through dessert. When I remember my grandfather, I think of pink peppermints. When I imagine visiting my sister, I think of all the bakeries we'll visit side-by-side. And, when I watch a movie, I can barely remember the storyline, but I can remember a the color and texture of a specific cake stuffed into the face of the heroine. Thus was this Pollyanna cake born, when I remembered how mezmerized by the scene in the classic Disney flick when Pollyanna Whittier, hiding behind a leafy plant at her aunts luncheon devours a pure white cake with the palest green frosting sealing it together. These cupcakes are light, delicate, and beautiful. The batter whips up sheeny and cooks up gorgeously. They are lovely cupcakes. I promise you'll be quite glad to have made them.
3 egg whites
1/3 c. butter
2 T. sour cream
2/3 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/3 c. marshmallow fluff
1 1/3 c. flour
1/3 c. boiling water
1 tsp. vanilla
In a large bowl, beat egg whites until stiff peaks form. Add remaining ingredients and beat together until nicely mixed. Spoon into 6 large cupcake holders, lined with cupcake wrappers. Bake 30-32 minutes for large cuppies.

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*Marshmallow Buttercream Frosting
The gentle lemon-mint flavoring in this fluffy frosting makes a beautiful addition to the pure-white Pollyanna Cupcakes. Tint with a single drop of green food coloring and a single drop of blue food coloring for a breathtakingly gentle frosting.
4 oz. marshmallow fluff
1 c. butter
4 c. powdered sugar
1-3 T. whole milk
1 drop lemon oil
1/2 tsp. vanilla
In a large bowl, beat marshmallow fluff and butter. Slowly add powdered sugar and milk a little at a time, beating until fluffy. Continue to add until desired texture is achieved. Add more milk, if a thinner frosting is desired.

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What are you feeling glad for today?