HUGE fudge brownies

March 19, 2011

Since the addition of Moxie to my life I tend to make every thing in double batches, then freeze half for later.  When making deserts this gives me the chance to make multiple varieties of everything.  Today i was making brownies for a family function, but wanted some on hand for friends later in the week.  Since I’m in a bit of a camp kitchen situation at the moment, I ended up pouring this truly enormous batch of brownie batter into a large baking pan, a small casserole, and two sets of mini muffin tins.  They are exceptinally chocolaty, though some mini dark chocolate chips stirred in couldn’t really hurt.
I’m attempting to keep the kidlet off of refined sugars and corn syrup for as long as possible.  If you don’t have cane sugar, the regular old white stuff would do the trick.

 

Frickin' HUGE batch of brownies

6 oz semi sweet chocolate
4 oz bakers choclate
4 sticks butter

3 cups cane sugar
1 cup dark brown sugar
8 large eggs, beaten
2 tsp vanilla

2 cups unbleached flour
1/2 cup dark cocoa powder
2 tbs cinamon
2 tsp kosher salt

3 cups chopped walnuts

Grease 2 9X13 inch baking pans. (Or one 9X13 inch pan, 2 12- cup mini muffin tins, 1 8X8 inch pan)  Preheat oven to 350. Melt chocolate and butter over low heat.  Pour in to large mixing bowl, being careful to scrape in all of the chocolate.  Stir in sugars to incorporate.   In a sperate bowl, lightly whip eggs.  Mix eggs in to chocolate mixture a little at a time, mixing between additions.  Combine dry ingredients, then add slowly to the wet ingredients until just combined.  Stir in walnuts.   Pour batter into prepared pans and bake for about 25-30 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean.  Do not over bake.  If using mini muffin tins, remove from the oven after about 10 minutes.

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Moxie’s First Recipe

December 24, 2010

Messy eater.

All natural paste:

1/2 piece of toasted sourdough, dry
3-5 cups of teething infant drool
1 infant face

Soak toast liberally in infant drool. Rub soaked and mushed toast around infant face. Concentrate most heavily on eyebrows, ears, and the spot where head directly meets chest (no neck to speak of yet). Fling leftovers at startled dog.

Attempt to plant sticky infant face into as much dog hair, cat hair, carpet fuzz, and mom clothing as possible. Shriek loudly as if burned by acid when cleaned up with a warm washcloth.

Kissy face mom.

December 3, 2010

Moxie thinks I’m the funniest thing ever.
Moxie Laughing

Vegetable Korma

September 21, 2010

A rather awful picture of tonights supper.

I started off w/ a recipe sent by my sister and changed it up thusly:

1 tbs cumin
1 tbs grnd corriander
1 1/2 tbs garam marsla
1 tsp tumeric
4 whole cloves
1/2 tsp grnd cardamom
1 tsp grnd cinnamon
4 tbs vegetable oil
1 tbs minced garlic
1 tbs minced fresh ginger
1 white onion, chopped
1 can fire roasted tomato w/ juice
1/2 cup coconut milk
1/3 cup cashews, grnd
1 head cauliflower, chopped
3 small potatoes, chopped
3 carrots, diced
1/2 cup edamame, shelled
1/2 cup chickpeas

Comibine spices in a heavy bottomed pan and dry fry until aromatic, about 2 minutes.  Add oil, and mix to combine with spices.  Fry garlic and ginger in the oil and spice mixture for about 2 minutes, then add onion and cook until softened.  Crush tomatoes into the pot and add the juice.  Mix in the ground cashews and whisk until incorporated.   Add coconut milk and vegetables.  Reduce heat and simmer until vegetables are as soft as desired. Could be al dente. Could be mush. It’s your choice.

Ground cashews: 1/3 cup cashews soaked in about 1/2 cup water for an hour.  Remove most of the liquid, then grind in mortar or in food processor.

I used edamame because I mostly hate green peas.  Try to find them fresh around here.  I dare you!  My sister’s recipe called for chicken instead of the veg.  I did poach a chicken breast in there for Andy, then cubed it on top of his plate.  Hers also had heavy cream in place of the coconut milk but I have baby weight to loose!  Top w/ yogurt and cilantro if desired.  Serve over basmati rice.

Sweet Sweet Olive

September 4, 2010

In 2004 I was a depressed and lonely woman in a strange city half way across the country from the place I considered home.  My solitude was intentional, a product of the denied grief of a lifetime and two all too fresh deaths.  I rented a two bedroom duplex and hid there, rejecting the idea that a good life was worth the effort.  I mentioned off handedly to a coworker that I thought I needed a dog.  She brought me an adoption booklet from her vet’s office and there, about halfway in was a picture of my heart’s dog, Olive.

She was called Duma then, by the ladies that ran the rescue she’d been living at for six months. She’d been found wandering the streets of northeast Georgia alone and hungry.  She seemed easily startled and they soon realized that was because she could not hear.   She was camera shy, so in the picture her face is turned back towards the camera over one sholder.  She’s standing still for the photo, but you can tell she doesn’t like it.  She’s doing it because she knows these nice people want her to, and she usually does what nice people ask.  I knew she was my dog before I even read the caption under her picture.  I thought she was all soul.  It turned out she was also very largely joy.

Olive, named for the sound a deaf friend made when he said “I Love You” quickly became the most important piece of my life.  She was waiting for me every morning when I got out of bed and in the afternoons when I came home.  She was so horribly shy at first that she couldn’t stand to see me leave the room without her, and followed each of my steps.  Though I was still deeply sad and anxious, I got up on weekends to make sure that Olive had a walk.  The desire to let Olive see more of her own kind got me out of that crappy apartment to the dog park, where I began to see more of mine.  Her oddball tummy made me search out good food for her, and realize what I was eating myself.  And then that day when the bottom finally dropped out, Olive sat between my legs in the floor while I held on to her for hours.  She was what I gripped when I decided to go ahead and try the climb.

She became the friend that would walk beside me across half a country, down 100 pounds, away from a life I was designing to be free of anyone I loved enough to weep for, and towards the courage to find the one I live today.  Olive gradually made me remember that the flow of love is worth the pain it brings with it, and that despite my many faults I am a person who loves well.  She found the heart I tried to throw away, and brought it back to me.  That was the only thing she ever bothered to fetch.

More than six years ago she found a woman alone, with a stale and blank face.  This morning my kind husband told me that he loved me and took our two month old daughter from the room.  I held sweet sweet Olive against me and she took her leave.

Waiting.

July 1, 2010

Time flies

At about 5:30 in the morning on July 1st, I’m sitting in our not so well scrubbed bath tub looking for that mythical state of relaxation and calm that everybody advises those in a pensive cycle of waiting to find.   I am a horrible waiter, and have been since childhood.  Not satisfied with mere punctuality, I’m the woman who has a book in her glove box for the inevitable 30 minute wait I’ll do in the car before any appointment.  Tick tock…. don’t mind me, I’m just waiting.

This would probably qualify as the ultimate wait.  I’m waiting for our first child.  My estimated due date of June 20th came and went without so much as  a contraction 11 days ago. In physiological terms it’s just any second.  2 or 3 centimeters dilated, more than 80% effaced, baby at a -1 station. Evening primrose oil, red raspberry leaf tea, black/blue cohosh tincture, spicy food, and my personal favorite source of protaglandins have all been tried for weeks.  Yesterday, proving my own fragile mental state, I actually consumed 4 oz of castor oil in a chocolate shake and spent the rest of the day groaning on the can.  All to no avail though.  I woke up this morning at about 3am feeling far more fine than I care to.

My daughter, whatever her name will end up being, apparently doesn’t share my early nature.  She’s comfy inside of me, I guess.  She has plenty of room inside my farm girl’s pelvis to just hang out and start long before her teens the tradition of driving her mother just a little crazy.  She must know that by whatever impossible mechanism of nature, I fell in love with her months and months ago, and I’ve been sitting on my hands not having a much wanted drink, round of sushi, or knock down hard run on my swollen and gimpy right leg. I’m desperate to meet her.   How long will this woman wait for me, she must wonder.

I’m just sitting here, and I’ve nothing left to read.  I’ll get out of the tub in a bit, scrub it down (it really is pretty scummy), and then go bounce on my exercise ball for another day looking at 30 years old for the patience my baby has already mastered.

Our Daughter

March 5, 2010

Working title: Georgia Marie Skelton

For the love of GOD!

March 3, 2010

Make this right now.  NOW!

Beet Hummus from Simply Recipies

Meat Pig

February 12, 2010

1 medium onion, diced fine
4 stalks celery, diced fine
4 carrots, diced fine
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbs olive oil
½ cup red wine
1 tbs fresh oregano, minced
1 tbs fresh sage, minced
1 tbs fresh thyme
3 lbs ground meat (I like one each beef, lamb, and turkey. Venison is also good.)
1 egg, beaten
½ cup marinara
½ cup bread crumbs
¼ cup instant oats
1 tbs Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp dried Italian herbs
2 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp fresh cracked pepper

In large skillet, heat olive oil. Add onions, garlic, carrot, and celery. Cook until softened. Deglaze pan with red wine and allow liquid to reabsorb. Add fresh herbs. Allow to cool. Combine cooked vegetables and all other ingredients by folding together, not squeezing. Form into a loaf, by hand and refrigerate on a lined cookie sheet for one hour. Bake at 350°F until cooked through, about 1-1½ hours or until a meat thermometer inserted into the center of the giant loaf reads 160°F. Allow to rest for at least 10 minutes before slicing.

Note: Add more marinara if too dry, more bread crumbs if too wet. I admit that these measurements are only approximate. Meatloaf is something that changes every time I try it.  I always: limit myself to one egg, eschew loaf pans, and use the cooked vegetables.

You can of course shape the loaf any way you like.  It’s a horrible photo, but as you can tell, Andy is very fond of pigs.

Meat Pig

Spirit of Aggieland

January 29, 2010

Even in the cold cold north, one man shows his Aggie Spirit.

Jeffrey honors the 12th man.

Olive is suddenly grateful for her undercoat.