Category: Cooking (disasters)

The sweet smell of edible Australia

So, today I bring you a recipe that may surprise you. It’s for Rice Krispie Treats. I know what you’re thinking: Dude, no way! You have to buy those at the grocery store–proof that they’re just too hard to make.

I used to think the same thing, but really, it’s not difficult to master the recipe. In fact, today, I’ll present both the basic recipe and some advanced techniques. You can thank me later.

First, what you’ll need:

Note: While it’s esthetically more pleasing to place the butter in the center of the dish, it doesn’t affect the actual recipe.

  • 3 tablespoons butter/margarine
  • 1 bag marshmallows
  • 6 cups Rice Krispies

First, melt the butter, then add the marshmallows. It will look something like this:

Mmmmm. Melty high fructose goodness.

When the marshmallows are all melted, add the Rice Krispies. This can be a little tricky:

Challenging, but worth it.

Spread the mess yummy goodness into a 9 x 13 inch pan that you’ve previously hosed down coated with cooking spray. Use a buttered spatula or waxed paper to keep the mess from sticking to everything in known creation press the treats into the pan.

And that’s it! And I know what you’re thinking: That’s easy! I’ll never buy Krispie Treats from the store again!

Now that you’ve mastered the fine art of the Krispie Treat, you can use them a launch pad for more experimental work. I give you: Edible Australia:

You’ll need a bigger pan because Australia is … big. We recommend you outline Australia beforehand.

Sometimes it’s good to have your map of Austalia by your side while you work.

Australia is surrounded by a lot of ocean. You’ll need blue frosting for that. But don’t panic. You can make your own.

Attention to detail is important.

Voila! All you need now is the finishing touches (brown sugar for deserts, cookie crumbs for mountains, and Swedish fish (?) for the ocean) from your classmates, and you have Edible Australia.

The real reward will come not in the post-quiz consuming of (some of) Edible Australia but whether older women (aka eighth and ninth graders) will ask you to share some of it on the way out of school.

Daylight Wasting Time

I read once that the best way to cope with a time change (jetlag or whatever) was exercise. Sadly, I believe the writer of the article meant a nice walk in the sunshine, not aerobic weight training at o’dark thirty. I have one word for that:

Y-A-W-N

Things we discovered this weekend:

Andrew can put together his own pinewood derby car. Okay, so we bought the kit with the pre-shaped car. Still, he did it all himself. I just wish the manufacturers would illustrate the box with a car made by an actual eleven year old and not a computer enhanced image by a master craftsman.

The library book we can’t find is called Uh-Oh, confirming that the irony never stops around here.

Andrew has the same exact shoe size as I do, but he won’t let me wear his new skateboarder shoes.

Chocolate pumpkin cupcakes are a big hit.

I found the recipe at Marianne’s. I had to use a bit of water, however. While she said her mixture had a mousse like consistency, mine was like excavated dirt. And I swear to you, I waited until they were completely cool to frost them. Nevertheless, something happened.

Andrew asked me why I spooned pudding all over the cupcakes. I told him it was frosting. He shrugged and said, “Well, it still tastes good.”

And we congratulated ourselves on such a healthy, beta-carotene filled treat.

Pinkalicious cupcakes

So, yesterday I watched the temperature drop all day long. When Kyra and went to ballet, it was a balmy 23 degrees. When, at long last, I picked her up from the princess birthday party (screaming contest = good time had by everyone under seven), it was about five degrees.

I figured doing all the errands yesterday would be a wise choice, since so far today, the “high” temperature is -5.

Today, in honor of the upcoming Valentine’s Day holiday, we make pinkalicious cupcakes. And I know you all are dying for the recipe. Use 1 teaspoon of red food coloring in your “funfetti” cake mix. Now you know my secret.

So I was adding said red food coloring to the cake mix and warning the kids to be careful, since it stains like nobody’s business. I am now the proud owner of several red fingers. But then, you foodies saw that coming, right?

While we went pink, it was vanilla all the way. No heinous fake strawberry flavor for either the cake or the frosting. And we did not “Plus it up” per recommendation on the box and create “our own colorful, fruity frosting by mixing a package of any flavor unsweetened drink mix into the frosting.”

I don’t even want to contemplate that.

Pictures below the cut.

Continue reading “Pinkalicious cupcakes”

In which I cook Jen’s Chicken Rose

So, I tried Jen’s Chicken Rose yesterday. It looked so simple, plus had the added bonus of mix it all together and stick it in the oven preparation. That’s my kind of cooking. My first clue all would not be as simple as all that was a distinct lack of artichoke hearts at the grocery store.

Oh, sure there were some artichokes in the produce section. But no frozen artichoke hearts. I zipped all over the store–it’s the sort of place where you can find esoteric organic stuff, so I figured somewhere there’d be artichoke hearts. Instead, I found Brussels sprouts.

No kidding. I probably missed the whole memo on the Brussels sprout, but from what I saw yesterday, they are the cool vegetable of 2008. Multiple frozen varieties (with butter sauce, without, baby Brussels sprouts, and so on). A whole bunch in the produce section, including organic, individually-wrapped packets of six Brussels sprouts, for when you’re feeling pretentious.

So I went with the canned artichoke hearts (insert collective foodie gasp here).

I subsequently cut my thumb on the can’s edge (insert collective foodie schadenfreude here).

I was reaching for the soy sauce when I realized: we had none. Yeah, and I was just at the store, and I should’ve checked. Thing is, Andrew loves soy sauce, so we almost always have a spare bottle. Today? Not so much. What did I do?

I found a handful of Chinese takeout soy sauce packets and used those. Back in the day, we’d call that “field expedient.” (Insert second collective foodie gasp here.)

The rest of the meal prep was fairly uneventful. I couldn’t find our rice cooker. I suspect it ran off with the loaf pan I couldn’t find a few weeks ago. As long as they’re happy. I’ve told the wok to relay the message that we’ll welcome them back into the fold like the prodigal cookware they are. (For the record, I simply made rice in a pot. It worked.)

The dinner was pretty good. I thought the sauce was tasty, even with the field expedient soy sauce. My cut thumb is nearly healed. This morning we had frozen chocolate chip waffles for breakfast. 

So, yeah. Things are back to normal.

In which I bake banana bread

That’s right. I baked last night. From scratch. That shadow you see crossing your front door? One of the horsemen of the apocalypse. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Not only did I bake, but I did so after completing four hours of line edits with Darcy on Geek Girl’s Guide. I. Am. A. Machine. Blame my new exercise routine, which, incidentally, bores the dog, but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post.

I’d promised Kyra some girl time, so the boys left for the hockey game and we went to the grocery store. Actually, I should back up and state I meant to bake the bread on Saturday, but found I was missing a crucial ingredient. And, no, not the bananas, oddly enough.

A loaf pan.

I know we own one. Somewhere. So, I was all set, nearly started, but luckily searched the entire, freaking kitchen checked beforehand.

So, grocery store for loaf pan, other essentials, and Chinese takeout = mission complete. (What, I was baking, you thought I was actually going to cook dinner, too?)

The marvelous Miss B is an expert banana masher. I started her in on that while I added the other ingredients and hit stumbling block number two. I didn’t have buttermilk. But then, who does? I mean, other than all you foodie types out there. So I substituted plain yogurt. (Like the offhand way I toss that off, like I was so not Googling “substitute for buttermilk” in a complete panic for about five minutes there.)

I think it turned out okay, even though I discovered–twenty minutes into the baking–that I’d set the oven to the wrong temperature. (You know, I really should start a new blog: Disasters in Cooking.)  

Just wait until I tackle something really tough. You know, like a salad. (Involves knives. Nuff said.)