Peppermint Patties

Have you ever had one of these delightful drinks?  I had never heard of them until my husband suggested that we make them.  And I’m glad that he did because they quickly became my favorite holiday drink.  They’re actually quite simple to make too: hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps.  If you have a sweet tooth like I do, you can add marshmallows on the top and a candy cane for garnish and extra peppermint flavor.

I asked my husband how he would describe the taste of these and said, “It’s like a cool breath of fresh air.”  (He also recited a commercial for York Peppermint Patties about the winds rushing from the gale or something.) He’s right about the breath of fresh air though!  Remember, it’s hot chocolate!  Not  that anyone could ever forget about hot chocolate.  I even remember its sweet taste from when I would sneak a cup when I was little.  It gives you that warm comfy feeling that makes you scrunch up your nose, shrug your shoulders, and simply smile. 

Now, as an adult I can appreciate the added zing of the peppermint schnapps.  It’s strange, but the flavor reminds me of camping, of sitting next to a blazing fire at night, stars twinkling above, a cool breeze that chills your nose, a calm breath of the cool mountain air, a moment of clarity where nothing exists but that breath of air and chocolate.

Wishing you all that moment this holiday season.  Merry Christmas!

Boston By Food

Boston has been deemed a walking town. Who would call it this?  Probably all of the residents walking there and now my mom, my sister, and me! I overheard one man in an Italian restaurant say that he drove to the city, parked, and then walked 20 miles to get to there.  He may have been exaggerating, but probably not by much.   There was no parking in the Italian district and really no parking anywhere now that I think about it, so it is good thing that we didn’t bother to rent a car.  It was definitely worth the walk for the homemade pasta, homemade gnocchi, and, of course, the polpette (meatballs) at the Cantina Italiana in Boston’s Northern End.  And so we took our walking shoes and walked everywhere we went.  I loved it!  We developed a routine of walking, eating, and walking. Perfect!  There are a number of tours out there – Boston by Foot – but I’m calling my Boston experience Boston by Food.

When in Boston, you should have lobster or some kind of seafood, right?  We decided to splurge after our trip to the New England Aquarium and eat at Legal Seafood on the harbor.  It had great ratings on Trip Adviser and a few other sites, so we thought it would be a safe bet.  I ordered the Louisiana Gumbo, my sister ordered a Fried Clam Sandwich, and my mom ordered the Crab Roll.  Out of the three, the gumbo was the only thing tolerable. It was good – spicy, with meaty shrimp, fried okra, and LOTS of rice.  I would have liked more okra and less rice.  Because the other two dishes were so bad, we decided to share our food.  The clams in the sandwich were too greasy, slimy, with an oily taste.  It came with seaweed salad, which tasted exactly what I imagine the bottom of the ocean tastes like.  The crab in the Crab Roll was odd, very cold on a hot roll.  It tasted like cold fish that shouldn’t be on a sandwich.  For the cost of lunch, the food should have been superb and the service exquisite.  It was neither.  To make the experience even worse, the waitress was rude and ignored us as soon as we ordered water instead of alcohol.  I guess Boston isn’t known for its hospitability.

Just when we thought the food of Boston was a lost cause, we found a quaint, cozy, Irish pub called The Black Rose.  It had a green door and a green stair case that led to extra seating on the second floor.  Our waitress greeted us with a smile and in a thick Irish accent gave us recommendations, which we took.  I ordered my very first Fish and Chips, my sister ordered the Guinness Beef Stew, and mom ordered Shepherd’s Pie.   This time we all shared our dishes because they were so good! 

Fish and Chips- All I can say is delicious! Two haddock filets fried to a perfect crispiness and accompanied with fried potatoes that were cut perfectly - not too thin and not too thick.  I don’t like Tartar sauce and usually opt for Ketchup, but these fries were seasoned so perfectly that I didn’t even need it! All fish and chips will now be compared to this.

Guinness Beef Stew – Hearty is the best word that describes this dish.  The beef was thick and so tender that it hardly had to be chewed.  It was accompanied by potatoes, carrots, in a rich gravy-like base.  This is comfort food at its best. I would definitely order this for myself.

Shepherd’s Pie – This was made with ground beef and ground lamb.  I’m not a big fan of lamb, but because it was mixed with the hamburger, the taste wasn't as wild to me.  The combination was interesting.  The peas and carrots stood out to me as a yummy compliment to the mashed potatoes that topped the dish.  The best part to me was that it was served with broccoli.  The broccoli was slightly salted, but not overpowering.

We also tried Sam LaGrassa’s for lunch one day.  It was on an episode of Diners, Drive-ins, & Dives, so we couldn’t resist.  The menu of sandwiches is extensive and it was difficult to choose, especially in a line that was meant to move fast in a busy downtown lunch environment.  We decided to share the Pastrami Sandwich and the Club Sandwich.  Both were delicious.  They were so big that we decided to split them and share.  Of the two I enjoyed the Pastrami the best – thick cut slices of meat with tangy mustard.  However, the bacon from the club sandwich added just enough saltiness to keep me eating the club too.  The pictures speak for themselves.  

And so that was our trip to Boston by foot and mostly by food.  There are so many pubs and resturaunts there that we barely sampled them.  And I can't close this post without mentioning Duncan Donuts. There are over 107 Duncan Donuts in Boston and we couldn't pass up stopping in a few time for donuts, tea/coffee.  Yum!

Deboning Da Fish

My dad wanted to go fishing for his birthday, so one cool Sunday morning in August he picked me and my husband up and we met my sister at Fenton Lake about an hour north of Albuquerque.  It was perfect fishing weather: cool with a light rain.  We set up our lines and cast out into the unknown yet small lake and waited and waited.  A big part of shore fishing is waiting, which is probably why some people consider it relaxing and others boring.  It can be both, but the waiting also creates an air of anticipation – waiting on the edge of a folding chair, waiting for the unknown, waiting for a possibility, waiting for that slight moment when the tip of your pole dips and snaps back upright, waiting for that bite, waiting for the exhilaration of setting the hook and reeling in a mystery – is it a fish, a boot, lake muck, who knows? – waiting.

Eventually my dad walked back up to the truck that was parked not too far away.  As soon as he was out of sight, the waiting ended.  My sister’s (the Pie Goddess) line jerked, she grabbed her pole, set the hook, and reeled it in.  I ran to get the net to the surprising cacophony of clapping and cheering from fellow fishers.  The Pie Goddess had an audience!  I unnecessarily netted the fish.  It was little and the Pie Goddess decided to throw it back.  My dad missed the entire show, but from then on the bite was on!  At least for the Pie Goddess.  She had a number of missed bites, but caught two more and kept one.  I even managed to catch a little one that I threw back.  Somehow the girls caught the fish and the boys were skunked!

But this is what the waiting game is all about: it’s fun – you never know what might happen or what might not happen.  But luck is always on my side with this game because my dad and sister don’t eat fish, but my husband and I do!  So even if I don’t catch anything, I always go home with the fish! 

But that means I have to figure out how to cook it.  (I always manage to have someone else clean it!)  However, I still had to debone out how to debone a trout.  Wikihow gave 3 options on how to do it.  Because this fish was still on the small side, I decided to cook it with the bones in.  The cooking part was actually a lot easier than I expected.  I thawed the fish, combined olive oil, parsley, and a little salt and pepper and basted the inside of the fish.  Leaving the bones in with all of the seasoning seemed strange, but I did it even though it felt wrong. I wrapped it in foil and put it in the oven. It cooked fast too – maybe only 10 minutes.

And then for the deboning.  I couldn’t do it; I was too nervous of ruining the whole thing.  The husband stepped up to the plate and did a fabulous job!  He put his fingers into the hot fish and pulled the entire backbone out.  Impressive!  There were no bones left in the meat of the fish!

Trout is a bit on the wild side and has a definite fishy taste to it, but the olive oil and seasoning mellowed it out.  We paired it with some shrimp (concocted by the husband) and some veggies for a yummy, healthy dinner.

My Weekend of Cake

My birthday was over a month ago and this post never made it up, so here it is now!  My birthday was on a Monday, so I chose to celebrate the entire weekend with cake.  My very wise mother once said that you get to subtract a year from your age for each celebration.  She forgot to mention that this number is then added to your weight!

But it was worth it!  Saturday my husband surprised with a  beautiful cake from ABC Bakery.  It was decorated in my favorite colors, reminiscent of wedding cake – red buttercream roses, turquoise butterflies, green leaves, and sparkly sugar.  It was almost too pretty to eat.  Almost!

It tasted even better than it looked.  White moist cake with a raspberry jelly filling, topped with an airy vanilla buttercream frosting.  If I could be a flavor I would want to be a piece of this cake.  It was sweet, fluffy, and the raspberry filling was deep enough to be intriguing and only made me want more.  Normally my willpower is strong enough to say no to more than one piece of cake, but not if it is from ABC.

Or if my sister made it.  On Sunday my sister (a/k/a the pie goddess in some circles and more recently the cake goddess) treated me with her Chocolate Coca-Cola Cake.  This cake looked crazy, but in a fantastic way that made me want to dig into it – forget a plate and fork, just dig in!  Somehow I managed to suppress my inner two year old and managed to avoid chocolate all over my face.  The cake was covered in blue, purple, and black sprinkles on top of white buttercream frosting.  And the inside? Two layers of chocolate devil’s food cake that sandwiched chocolate buttercream frosting.

The only words spoken (if they can be considered words at all) from my dad, my husband, me, and even the pie goddess herself:

                Ooooooo.

                Ahhhhhh.

                Yummmm.

The cake completely abducted our ability to form words; that’s how delicious it was.  We took turns mumbling.  And after my second slice, I think my teeth ached from the sweetness, but not unpleasantly – more like a craving for more of the crazy, fantastic, yumminess.

Thanks to everyone who helped me celebrate my weekend with cake!  I’m already looking forward to next year!

A Delicious Disaster

I made a cake – not just any cake, but my first real cake; a cake with eggs. I’ve never been good at making cakes; they never seem to rise with my multitude of egg substitutes.  But this cake did!  I used (sort of!) a recipe for Vanilla Cake with Italian Meringue Frosting.

All was going well.  I baked the two layers of the cake one day ahead of eating time (the husband’s birthday.)  They baked perfectly evenly and with a little coaxing they even came out of the pan without too much damage.  On the big day, I was feeling pretty confident on my cooking efforts: the cakes looked good, I stopped at the store for some lemon curd for the filling, and expertly ordered a pizza.  All that was left?  The frosting; the meringue of the meringue cake.

I mixed the sugar and water in a saucepan as instructed, heated it until it boiled, and then stirred until the sugar dissolved.  I turned down the heat to let it do its thing as it thickened into syrup.  Meanwhile, I separated 3 eggs and beat the egg whites with cream of tartar.  I beat and beat, waiting for the “moderate” peaks to form.  The syrup was only supposed to heat for 4 minutes, but that quickly turned to 7 because of my unresponsive eggs.  After 10 minutes, I gave up on the eggs and slowly added the syrup to the mixture while still beating with my electric mixer.  The mixer seemed to jam.  I figured it was just a minor setback and pulled the beaters out.  I thought maybe I imagined it and put them back in the mix and started beating again.  Talk about “egg on my face” and my coffee pot, on the floor, and all over the counter too!

The “syrup” solidified as it hit the egg mix and created a candy around the beaters.  The mixer jammed and sent my would be frosting all around the kitchen.

As I stared at the mess, trying to think of a solution, my phone rang.  “Hey, I’m on my way home!” said the birthday boy cheerfully.  “OK!” I said equally cheerful.  Now what?

1.       Clean up the evidence of the disaster.

2.       Find the ingredients for fall back frosting (a/k/a buttercream frosting).

3.       Concoct butter free buttercream frosting.

Why butter free you might ask?  I don’t know how to cook with butter after so many years of being allergic to it and I threw away all of the Crisco because of my current soy allergy.  That left…Spectrum (the palm oil butter substitute and my frosting saving grace) added to my favorite flavoring – vanilla.  Voila!  Frosting!

I spread the store bought lemon curd on the bottom layer and then gently placed the top layer over it. Then I did my best to frost the cake.  Of course, bits of cake crumbled and spread throughout the icing, adding to the already brown tint from the vanilla.  But hey, it was frosting and it was a cake.

My disaster turned out to be delicious: a light fluffy cake, with a sweet yet sour lemon flavor in the center, topped off with an extra sweet vanilla frosting.  Lessons learned?

1.       Never use old cream of tartar

2.       Never boil syrup for too long

3.       Never take yourself too seriously

4.       Be flexible enough to stray from the roadmap of th recipe

5.       Disasters can still be delicious

Dad's Pecan Pie

I’ve had Mom’s pecan pie, so now it’s time for Dad’s pecan pie.  How different can it be, right?  Same ingredients, same process, right?  Right.  So, you can imagine my shock when I wasn’t transported anywhere with my first bite of Dad’s pecan pie.  There were no reminders of pineapple, coconut, or even cake.  No, Dad’s pecan pie creates no questions: it’s pecan pie in the here and now.

Who knew a pie could make you feel so present, perhaps even relevant?  But this pie does.  The pie crust is a mere vehicle for holding the filling, which overpowers any flavor the crust might have had.  The filling is dense, thick, and set so that a piece can be picked up and eaten without a fork.  The taste?  Obviously it’s sweet, but it’s also bold and seems to have a presence all of its own.  I guess it would have to if it has the power to make someone feel present in their own life.  It too has to be present in its own existence.

Why is there such a difference in texture and flavor between Mom’s pie and Dad’s pie?  My sister (the Pie Goddess) and I poured over the recipes and couldn’t find the answer.  We assumed that someone had a secret ingredient, but we found none.  Dad admitted that he finely chops the nuts with a knife; whereas, Mom uses hand broken pieces of pecans.  While they use the same measurement of pecans, Dad’s pie probably has twice the amount of pecans than Mom’s because they are so much smaller.

So…maybe the power, the presence really is in the pecan.  I’m available for taste tastes!