Blueberry Buckle (and other recipes)

Do you have a stash of those family/fundraising cookbooks like I do? I've collected quite a few over the years from various places and from various people.

I got one when I visited a little cafe in a tiny town on the northern border of North Dakota with friends. I got another when I volunteered at a crisis pregnancy center while I was in college in Florida. Seth's sister copied pages from Seth's mom's favorite cookbook and put them together in a binder for the rest of the family members. Another one came from the church family I grew up with in Pennsylvania. I acquired another one when a colleague pulled together recipes from coworkers where we work.

My most recent acquisition came from a distant relative of Seth's (I'm still not quite clear on the exact connection). Her young granddaughter was diagnosed with cancer and, wanting to help with medical bills, she put together a cookbook with her own recipes and those of her friends. (You can find out more about the recipes in her cookbook and how to purchase one here.)

I like looking through these cookbooks for new and unusual recipes. Some of our favorite recipes, which I'm sharing below, have come from these cookbooks. The Blueberry Buckle is Seth's favorite breakfast item. The meatballs have become a family favorite (everyone -- including Mr.Picky 1 (Seth) and Mr. Picky 2 (Kieran) -- loves this for dinner). And the pie crust is the best I've ever tasted.

Enjoy! And, if you have the inclination, please feel free to share your favorite recipe from a family/fundraising cookbook.

Blueberry Buckle (Wisler's Country Cooking -- Seth's mom's favorite cookbook)
3/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. butter/shortening
2 eggs
1/2 c. milk
1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. cloves
15 oz. package of blueberries
1/2 c. sugar
1/3 c. flour
1/4 c. softened butter

Preheat oven to 375.
Mix sugar, butter, eggs, and milk until well blended.
Stir in flour, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves.
Fold in blueberries.
Spread batter into greased 9-inch square pan.
Combine remaining ingredients and mix until crumbly.
Sprinkle crumbs over batter.
Bake for 45-50 minutes.

Gramma Martens' Gourmet Meatballs (from Delightful Dishes from Grandma Janice's Kitchen)
1 lb. ground beef
1 large egg, beaten
1 1/2 tsp. dried onion
1 tsp. dried parsley flakes
1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp. seasoned salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
1/4 tsp. thyme
1/3 c. dry bread crumbs
1/3 c. milk
1 can cream of mushroom soup (I use cream of chicken)
1/2 c. water
8 oz. softened cream cheese

In large mixing bowl ground beef, egg, onion, parsley, Worcesterchire sauce, salt, pepper, thyme, bread crumbs, and milk. Mix well and shape into balls; brown in skillet.
Mix soup, water, and cream cheese together until well blended.
Place browned meatballs in casserole dish, pour soup mixture over meatballs.
Bake at 350 for 30 minutes.
Serve over cooked rice.

Pie Crust (from Celebrating Life Cookbook)
4 c. flour
1 tsp. sugar
1 1/2 tsp. salt
1 1/2 c. lard (I use butter)
1 egg
1 T. vinegar (I use lemon juice because Seth doesn't like vinegar)
1/2 c. water

Mix flour, sugar, and salt. Cut lard into mixture. Mix together egg, vinegar, and water. Lightly mix with dry indredients. Makes enough for 4 pie crusts.

"Prep time"

In trying to simplify meal planning and execution, I've decided to dedicate each weekday to a certain type of meat that I can build a meal around:

• Mondays = meatless (at least, they're supposed to be meatless -- they usually end up having some type of meat since Seth likes flesh)
• Tuesdays = chicken
• Wednesdays = fish (tuna, salmon, cod, tilapia, etc.)
• Thursdays = beef
• Fridays = pizza

The schedule has been going rather well for me these past few months. And, if I get really daring (and the chickens have been good contributors), I throw a quiche into the mix.
Since making up my own recipes and having them actually taste good is not my bailiwick, I usually follow the directions in my cookbooks to a T. In doing so, I've come to realize that the cookbook author's idea of "prep time" and the time it take me to actually prepare the meal are two completely different numbers.

For example, the recipe on the back of the pizza yeast packet that I use to make Friday's pizza says the "prep time" is 15 minutes. I've begun to think the people at Fleischmann don't make pizzas in the real world. This is how my pizza-making experience usually goes:

4:30 -- "Okay, Kieran, it's time to go make the pizza."
Kieran: "Have to go potty."

4:32 -- "Okay, Kieran, let's go make the pizza."
Kieran: "We need the bread hook."
We put the mixer with the bread hook on the counter and, because I still can't remember the recipe even though I've used the same one the last 10 times I've made the pizza, I find the recipe.

4:33 -- I get the flour and begin looking for the one-cup measuring cup that Cael has yet again pulled out of the drawer and hidden somewhere.

4:36 -- I find the cup, measure the flour, and pour in the yeast and sugar and salt. And then I remember the water needs to be hot, so I put the measured water in the microwave.

4:38 -- I pour in the water, add the oil, and begin mixing it all together. Kieran covers his ears as the mixer spins.

4:39 -- Cael wakes up from his nap. I go get him and realize he needs a diaper change.

4:42 -- I begin grating the mozarella (the best is from Simply Cheese).

4:43 -- Cael wraps himself around my legs and wails because he's hungry and thirsty. I get him a drink and some marshmallows to munch on.

4:44 -- I finish grating the mozarella and mix the herbs into the tomato sauce (Seth can't abide ready-made sauce, so we make our own).

4:45 -- Why am I not ready to put the pizza in the oven by now?

4:46 -- I tell Kieran to stop wrestling Cael to the ground. And then I physically separate the two boys. Cael fake cries. Kieran sincerely apologizes.

4:48 -- I add the remaining flour to the dough, mix it up, roll it out, and remember I haven't yet gotten out the pizza stone. I wash my hands off, find the stone, put it on the counter, and then put the dough on it. And remember to turn the oven on.

4:49 -- Kieran: "Have to go potty."

4:51 -- Cael puts on Kieran's shoe, toddles around, falls down, needs to be picked up and reminded he's ok.

4:52 -- Mommy needs to go potty.

4:53 -- I put the sauce on the pizza and decide to add some ham and pineapple. I get the deli ham from the refrigerator, chop it up, open the can of pineapple, drain it, and strategically scatter a few pieces on the sauce, hoping maybe this time Kieran won't detect the pineapple and pull his pizza apart trying to remove it.

4:56 - I add the cheese.

4:57 -- Kieran rides his tricycle around the kitchen while Cael chases him. I stop them both and ask them to go into the living room so I can get the pizza in the oven without them running into the oven -- or me. Kieran obyes. Cael requires physical displacement.

4:59 -- Seth walks in the door and the boys run through the kitchen to greet him. I ask him to keep them contained so that I can get the pizza in the oven.

5:00 -- Somehow, the pizza finally makes it into the oven and, thirty minutes later, "prep time" is finished.

Just a little note to all the cookbook authors out there -- give me a call the next time you're ready to write a new recipe, and I'll be happy to tell you how much time "prep time" it really takes.

Meatless Monday

 Kitchen window, day 78

In an attempt to better plan our meals for supper, I've recently decided (like, last week) to make Monday meals meatless and Friday food pizza. (Tuesday through Thursday (and the weekend) are still up for grabs.)

When I informed Seth of my decision, he was less than thrilled, mainly about Meatless Mondays.

"But, I need meat," said he.

"I'm not eliminating protein," said I. "I'm eliminating meat. And just on Mondays. I think you can survive one day without meat. We had rice and beans last Monday and you survived."

"Yes, but I wasn't very happy about it," said he.

Despite Seth's reluctance, I've determined to press on with my Meatless Mondays plan and today decided upon making a spinach quiche.

The above was the view when Kieran and I took a little trip out to the chicken coop to see if there were any more eggs in the nest for us to use for the quiche.

There were. But only two. The red hen and the yellow hen have been faithfully fulfilling their egg-laying duties while the three Easter Eggers have been laying (ahem) down on the job.

And then we brought the eggs inside, added them to the few from the days before, and proceeded to make our spinach quiche. It turned out rather well, if I do say so myself, although it wasn't completely meatless--I added some bacon. Which made Seth happy.

OMKW and OMKT

Kitchen window, day 29

Today I decided I was hungry for baked macaroni and cheese. I've tried several recipes for it, and Seth has made his own version of it on occasion, but I haven't found one that I really, really like.

So, I googled "baked macaroni and cheese" and found this recipe by Alton Brown from the FoodNetwork. And then I made it, in between trying to get Kieran to stop crying whenever Cael screeched and making sure he didn't run over me with his tricycle.

And then I served it On My Kitchen Table. And I really liked it. Seth, however, Super-Taster that he is, did not like it. He doesn't like dry mustard for some unknown reason and could taste the one tablespoon of it that the recipe called for. He says he also didn't like the onions.

I would make it again if I were the only person in this household for whom I was making it. Sadly, I have two PBs (Picky-Butts, as my friend Frost calls them) for whom to prepare meals, and I'm generally stuck with making the same thing over and over again: Kraft mac-and-cheese with black beans. Fun times.

The one where I can't spell zucchini

Remember how I weeded my garden last fall? (If not, see here.)  Yes, well, between then and now, somehow the garden had unweeded itself. The spring rains made the weeds grow fast and because I was fat and pregnant, I didn't have the energy to keep after it. And so the weeds grew. And grew and grew and grew.

Finally, I'd had enough and decided to hire Chicken Neighbor's teenage son to weed it for me. And so I did. And so he did.

 And gradually, over the past few weeks, the garden has gone from looking like this ^ . . .

to looking like this ^.

Chicken Neighbor's son finished weeding a few days ago. And while he was telling me he'd finished, he offered me some of his homegrown zucchini, which I accepted gratefully. (I actually had to look up zucchini on merriam-webster.com to make sure I was spelling it correctly.)

Today, Kieran and I (mostly me, though) decided to make muffins from the zucchini. And so we did.

 The above view from my kitchen window was when we pulled the muffins (made from this recipe) out of the oven and tried one (or two or three). We both agreed that they were delish. 

Maybe it's the baklava

Or the lemon bars. Or the key lime bars. Or the ice cream bars. Or the . . . .

Last Wednesday, I went to my OB for the ultrasound on Baby Boy's kidney also for the one-hour gluocse test. I failed the glucose test, which means I had to go back the next day for a three-hour glucose test during which time they drew my blood four times. This test checks to see if I have developed gestational diabetes.

On Friday, the nurse called to inform me that I only failed one part of the test and only by a "little bit." She said, "The doctor wants you to watch  your carb intake." I was thinking that I need to watch more than my carb intake--I probably need to watch my sugar intake, as well, since I'm pretty much addicted to all things sugar. And Seth doesn't help that addiction by making the aforementioned desserts and eating only one bite, forcing me to finish the rest on my own lest I waste any of it.

So, Seth's job is to now not make anything sweet, and my job is to not find ways to eat sweet things.

 And I plan on taking that job seriously . . .

Right after I finish off these cinnamon rolls, the recipe to which my friend Beth posted on Facebook today and which I promptly made.

Puffy Pancake Dinner

Today was one of those days. One of those days when nothing sounded good to eat for supper.

And so, figuring it would probably behoove all of us to eat something besides toast and butter, I decided upon making a puffy pancake with fruit compote from my Betty Crocker Bridal Edition Cookbook.  

 

And thus I did. Seth got home in time to make the whipped cream and add his flair to the compote. All in all, the day-no-dinner-sounded-good turned out to be a good-dinner-day after all.

Jumpin' Frogs

Today the tractor came to cut the grass growing along the side of the lane leading to the Holler. I was tempted to run out and ask if he could, perchance, also cut the grass around our house, since it's been raining quite a bit lately and Seth hasn't been able to mow. But I didn't.

Instead, I got ready for the evening's events. Our little town is hosting its annual Homecoming Festival and the main street is filled with festivities.

The main event for the evening, which I've been wanting to see since we moved to the Holler, was the International Frog Jumping Contest. First on the agenda was the Best Dressed Frog Contest and Parade of Frogs.

Next up was the Frog Jumpin' Contest. We bumped into our neighbor (the one with the chickens) at the festival and he informed us that they were entering the competition. Last year, apparently, they took the prize for "shortest jump." They were "walking through the woods and saw a little frog hop across the way" and he said to son, "There's our frog. We'll win with him, for sure." Apparently the neighbor knows frogs as well as chickens.

The grandstands were filled so we were relegated to the "standing room only" section and forced to peer over the shoulders of those who had arrived earlier than we had.

After watching the International Frog Jumping Contest for a few minutes (it was everything I'd imagined it would be--and more), we moved on to the funnel cake district, where I bought my traditional festival funnel cake (it, too, was everything I'd imagined it would be).

Our final stop at the festival was the merry-go-round. I bought the 3 tickets required to ride and took Kieran on his first trip. You may notice from this photo why it is that I do not regularly ask Seth to capture photographic memories of our lives. "People kept getting in the way," he replied when I asked why there were no good pictures of Kieran and me on the carousel.

Soon enough the rain that's been filling our cistern the past few days began once again, and we hopped back in the car and headed for home. Just maybe next year we'll take a walk through woods and look for a good hopper to enter into the international event . . . .

(Salmon Loaf was on the agenda for dinner this evening. It was enjoyed by all.)

Must. Refrain.

So, this was the view when I realized was suffering Kitchen-Window Withdrawal symptoms and could no longer refrain from taking the same photo I've been taking for the past year. Sigh.

Last night I made Herb-Garlic Beef Tenderloin. Although it was mooing a bit more loudly than I prefer when I took it out of the oven, it was still tasty. Even Seth agreed. Tonight, I made the "Graduation Pizza" the recipe suggested to use for the left-overs. Seth gave an unenthusiastic "I'd eat it again" to this recipe, as the sweet pepper sauce was a little too sweet for his taste.

Somehow, and I'm not sure how, the Sweet Tooth Fairy bypassed his genes while he was developing in utero and dumped it all on me (granted, we weren't developing in utero at the same time, or even in the same place, so I can't quite explain the genetics behind this anomaly . . . Georgia?). He prefers the darkest of dark chocolates and usually turns up his nose at the desserts he makes after the first slice because they're "too sweet." Seriously, how can anything be too sweet?

Out my kitchen window, day 364

We've had a bit (and by a "bit" I really mean several days worth) of rain lately, so we haven't gotten out much.

To entertain ourselves, Seth decided to trim Kieran's nails. So he grabbed the little buggar and wrastled him to the ground. Kieran was thrilled.

He eventually squirmed into a more comfortable position and the process was soon complete.

Tonight was Black Beans Cakes with Salsa. Good for Kieran and I, and an "I'd probably eat it again" from Seth.

Out my kitchen window, day 359

The excitement for the day came when Seth brought the mail in from the box after coming home from work. I'm not sure why but bringing in the mail is his "thing." As in, he's at a slight loss if I get to it before he does.

Back to the day's excitement: The Annual International Frog Jumping Contest was announced, official rules and all. I wonder how one becomes the Frog Jumping Commissioner. Maybe I should turn my attention from bees to frogs so that next year at this international event, I can take home first prize . . . .

Today was Falafel Patty Melt day. Kieran and I liked it; Seth is not a fan of chick peas.

Out my kitchen window, day 358

Today it rained as if it were the start of Noah's Flood. Except that it wasn't the start of Noah's Flood because God promised to never again send a flood that covered the entire earth. So, it rained like it was the start of a Holler Flood. Except that it didn't really flood. It was more like the creek got a little angry and decided to try to overflow its banks but didn't quite want to do a full-fledged flood (look closely in the picture and you can see the normally reticent little creek).

The back yard was another story. All the water running off the hill behind our house collects beside the chicken coop and blazes a trail straight for our house. As much as I hate to admit it, Geothermal Guy may have done us an actual service by not, as he had promised, returning to smooth out the soil that had been dug up in order to insert the geothermal loops. Those muddy little hills ("I'll send my guy with the front loader to smooth that out in a day or two," said he on January 1) that are beginning to sprout weeds because Seth refuses to plant grass seed because he thinks the neighbor will one day rent a front loader that we can borrow to smooth them out are acting as nice barriers, directing the water away from the house and onto the driveway.

Thank you, Geothermal Guy, for once again not doing your job.

(Wednesday I tried Pepper Jelly and Soy Glazed Salmon. Thumbs up from Kieran and me, thumbs in the middle from Seth.)

Out my kitchen window, day 357

Success. It's a great word. And a great feeling.

The more I thought about an On My Kitchen Table series, the more my mouth began watering at eating actual meals that weren't spaghetti or mac-n-cheese. And so I decided to start early. As in, I decided to begin actually cooking dinner for a change.

Last week, I let my fingers do the walking through my recipes and cookbooks, choosing those I wanted to try first. And then I made a calendar of meals for the month of May. And then I went shopping for all the items necessary to make the dinners I'd planned. And then, Tuesday night, I made the first recipe, ripped from the May 2009 issue of Better Homes and Gardens: Almond-crusted Chicken. And there was great rejoicing. Well, maybe not rejoicing, but we all (including Seth) liked it. It was tasty and fairly easy to make, and it wasn't spaghetti or mac-n-cheese. I do believe I just may continue this series. . . .

Out my kitchen window, day 289

This was the view when I had a third (yes, you read that right) helping of Seth's take on the Pioneer Woman's recipe for macaroni and cheese.

As with any recipe, Seth didn't follow it exactly, choosing instead to bring his own creativity (and taste preferences) to the table (pun kind-of intended). His renditions usually turn out very well (although there was the incident with ground chicken . . . .), and I'm always happy to sample his wares. This one was no exception.

Out my kitchen window, day 248

This was the view when I decided to try this recipe for Italian Meatball Soup from the Pioneer Woman's website. And it was also the view when I decided that half the ingredients for the soup were missing from my kitchen and trip to the little local IGA was in order.

So, I packed up Kieran, still in his PJs and with a little milk moustache, and we ventured out. Thankfully, he didn't look out of place at the store.

The soup turned out fairly well, if I do say so myself.

Out my kitchen window, day 243

This was the view when I attempted to make Tropical Hamburgers following this recipe.

I'd like to say they tasted better than they looked. But they didn't.

Recipe for Gingerbread Pancakes

1. Watch a lot of TV. So much TV that you see the IHOP commercials advertising their gingerbread pancakes all the time and begin dreaming about gingerbread pancakes at night.

2. Try to figure out how you can get to the nearest IHOP in order to satisfy your gingerbread-pancake cravings.

3. Realize that there is no IHOP within 30 miles of you, and you need to come up with another plan for aquiring gingerbread pancakes.

4. Wake up one Sunday morning to a spouse who offers to make pancakes for breakfast (Step Pre-1. Marry someone who enjoys cooking. (Bonus Step: Said someone is a good cook.)). Capitalize on the opportunity to get gingerbread pancakes by suggesting, "Why don't you try making gingerbread pancakes this morning, sweetie."

5. Quickly Google "Gingerbread pancakes recipe" in order to stave off the inevitable, "I don't have a recipe."

6. Present said recipe to said spouse who then proceeds to make said gingerbread pancakes.

7. Enjoy.

8. Blog about it.

Pumpkin Pie Sans Crust

Because you asked, I give you The Recipe For Pumpkin Pie Sans Crust.

1. Get in the mood for some pumpkin pie.

2. Be extremely lazy. (Lazy enough that you don't want to make a pie crust but not so lazy that you don't want to make the filling.)

3. Don't make a pie crust.

4. Do make pumpkin pie filling. With extra cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves (but don't go overboard on the extra cloves because that just wouldn't taste right).

5. Pour pie filling into pie plate, which is not already lined with a crust.

6. Bake pie filling.

7. Enjoy your pumpkin pie. Sans crust.

It's as easy as . . . pie.

Out my kitchen window, day 169

Ten points to the first person who can tell me what time of day I took this picture. At the end of the year, the person with the most points wins . . . something.

This afternoon, Kieran and I went out to check on Daddy who was working on the car in the barn. Kieran felt the need to supervise for a bit.

And then he felt the need to bite his blanket for a bit.

Seth has been hypermiling his little heart out over the past year or so. Me? Not so much. He regularly gets 58 mpg, and he's driven over 1,000 miles on one tank of diesel in the Golf. However, he's not satisfied. And so, he is in the process of installing a fifth gear on his car, which apparently will lead to an even bigger increase in fuel mileage. According to Seth, this fifth gear will enable him to drive all the way to my parents' house in Florida without stopping for fuel (which he's planning on doing in a few weeks). To him I say, "Good luck with that." Kieran and I will be quickly flying overhead while he putters along on the road. More power (and fuel) to him.

And this evening, I made a sweet potato-cranberry quiche. It was also quite tasty. Any suggestions for changing this one up, Ruth?

Out my kitchen window, day 168

At some point today, I pulled out the blender and pureed the rest of the pumpkin we cooked up a few days ago. Most of it I dumped in freezer bags and stashed in the freezer. However, I left a little of the puree aside.

So that I could make a pumpkin quiche. I altered the recipe a bit -- we used cream cheese instead of grated cheese (Seth couldn't think of a cheese that went well with pumpkin) and yellow onion instead of green. But, it turned out well--a bit on the gingery side, but other than that, tasty.

And this is Kieran surrounded by the toys he was enjoying pulling out of the basket.