Potlikkery

best shaggy biscuits evah

Sunday Ian and I...nope. Sunday I was ravenous. After my late breakfast of scrambled eggs I tried convincing Ian it was in his best interest to make pancakes. Not only for me, but for us both. After all, he is the most pancake loving man I know. He didn't budge off the couch. My mind turned to biscuits. I've had Breakfast Book checked out from the library for weeks now. Discovered its existence thanks to Slashfood.

The first recipe that appealed to me was the Ginger Shortbread, which is on my list to make very, very soon. Since it was handy, I opened to the Quick Breads section and looked for a biscuit recipe. And there, I found it. My very favorite biscuit recipe ever. I've tried various recipes over the years. Most make passable biscuits. Nothing too special, or memorable. Not until now.

Marion Cunningham's recipe for biscuits is wonderful. Where there's heavy cream involved, deliciousness only follows. Her recipe is quick and simple and perfect, really. She says to add more heavy cream if the dough is shaggy. Have never heard that term before now. You cut the dough into squares, dip both sides in butter, and bake 'em in the oven for 15 minutes.

I'm the original dough girl, and I must say, I must sigh, that these biscuits are the fluffiest, yummiest biscuits I've ever made. I liked them best with butter only, cause I'm just that way. Ian slathered some of Laura's apple butter all over his. Yup, these biscuits got his butt up off the couch and into the kitchen. Oh, the power of biscuits.

kingdom for a brownie

Even though I don't love chocolate, I made brownies Sunday morning. Each month I look forward to "The Last Touch," the final column in Gourmet.  This month (June) it featured four brownie recipes. Actually, the first, Coconut Blondies, is perfectly my speed, my taste. And someday I'll make that recipe for certain, but it's not what tugged at my apron strings Saturday afternoon as I browsed magazines on my back porch and ate strawberries straight out of the pint container.

Peanut Brittle Brownies. Yeah. It's deceptively simple. You make your brownie batter, pour it into your pan, and bake for 25 minutes. Pop open oven door, pull out rack, and sprinkle peanut brittle crumbles on top. Shove rack back in, close door, and bake another 5 minutes. Viola! You have yummy brownies.

By the time Ian arrived home Sunday morning, they had cooled enough to cut. Ian suggested that I cut and keep aside all the corner pieces for him. We are so compatible when it comes to baked goods. He likes the corner pieces, while I prefer the inside pieces that have absolutely no hard crusty edges.
Sigh, isn't it great when relationships work out like that? The only thing we usually fight over are black olives when we get that large shared salad at Olive Garden. Have to equally distribute the olives between us.

The brownie was yummy. I used 4 ounces of  Ghirardelli chocolate morsels I bought ages ago with Laura at Sam's. First time I opened its bag, actually, and was glad to have it. No doubt the Ghirardelli quality infused those brownies with an undeniably rich chocolate flavor.

I packaged up most of the brownies and as we made our Sunday rounds, I dropped off a half a dozen or so at my mom's house and and Ian's parent's house. It's best to share brownies, any sweets, really, so that those who are tempted and cannot control themselves do not have so much a temptation to overcome.

egg salad sammich

Made my egg salad Friday night. Sandwich bread loaf, too.  It's all completely Foose-inspired. I want to call her Fosse for some reason. Suppose it's that I'm more familiar with that name.

Foose's egg salad includes olives, something I like on their own, but not mixed in much except that dressing slathered on a mufaletta. And she called for onions or scallions, too. But I had none of those on hand.

Normally with protein/mayo salad-type dishes I stick to my own rather than try new ones. It's silly, I know. But I'm so particular when it comes to protein salads. Like ham salad? Oh, I'd never try that. When we visit Ian's relative in Canton, OH there's usually talk of picking up a ham salad from and my mind shrinks back from the very thought of that. It sounds wrong. It's likely quite good. What do I know?

The other thing about me and protein salads is that I made them different each time, rarely keeping track of ingredient amounts. I'd rather taste my way to protein salad perfection. This time though, I wrote it down. Here's this month's egg salad recipe:

12 eggs, boiled and de-shelled
4T Hellman's mayonnaise
1T vinegar
2 tsp. sweet relish
2 tsp. sugar
1tsp. mustard powder
1tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. salt
1tsp. ground pepper

I texted Ian to ask how he boils eggs, because they usually come out well and he's naturally takes charge of any egg cooking in the house especially if it's for deviled eggs. He said, and I'm fleshing it out a bit, "Put the eggs in the pot and let them warm as the water does. Let them boil for ten minutes." I'm notorious for cooking eggs like 20 minutes or so, but I don't think it damages them.

After peeling them I throw them in a medium sized bowl and add the ingredients random-like.  When I got most everything in there, I tasted and found it lacking. That's when I added the vinegar and sweet relish. Since I'm supposed to cut down on my salt intake (my blood pressure was elevated for me, but still in normal range at my last OB appointment) I went lighter on that than normal. And I'm supposed to watch my sugar, too, just not to over do it. But then, the egg salad wasn't sweet enough and that's when I thought of the sweet relish. I think my mom used to put that in her egg salad until she went olive on me. She does the olives and olive juice in deviled eggs, too, and frankly ruins it for me.

 

The sandwich loaf bread? Oh, how I wish I'd read the recipe thorough. I'm bad to not read ahead with recipes and knitting patterns and sewing instructions. I started on it around 5 o'clock, after getting home from work Friday night. First couple of steps are easy and take no time at all. Then I have to cover for 10 minutes. Then work some salt into it. Then cover for an hour. Then fold it a certain way and let it rise for 11 1/2 to 2 hours. Then do something else to it and let it rise another hour. Surely the bread would be in the oven by 9 o'clock, right? 

 

But no, the bread came out of the oven around 11 o'clock. I let it cool and ate a few slices for breakfast Saturday morning. Then Ian arrived home and sampled both eggs salad and bread. He didn't mind the burnt bottom. Yeah, the bottom was burned. I was bummed about that. Foose's directions said to remove the bread from it's loaf pan and set it directly on the rack. The bottom rack. Bread set on bottom rack equals burned bottom.

strawberry delight

Recipes for Strawberry Cake that I found online disappointed me. Gelatin? Frozen strawberries? Ugh. Those ingredients seemed lame. Instead, I turned to my Blue Willow Inn cookbook. It's subtitle is "Bible of Southern Cooking," and I must say, that every recipe  I've made from the book turns out Delish!

Their recipe is simple, and similar to the ones found online, actually. So I was disappointed, skeptical, but tried it anyway. One box of butter cake mix, 3/4 cup of oil, 4 eggs, one box of strawberry gelatin, and one 10oz box of frozen strawberries, thawed.

Naturally, I used fresh strawberries. And I used much much more than the 4-5 oz they suggested for the cake's batter. I made cupcakes, two dozen of them, in fact, special-like for Rebekah's birthday. Ian helped me make a decision on what to top the icing with: sprinkles or strawberry slices. He asked "What will the kids like?" Oh, sprinkles, I suppose. So there was my answer.

Rebekah leads Biscuit

Rebekah is one of the sweetest young women I know. She turned 18 on Saturday, and I felt bad that I didn't have anything other than the strawberry cupcakes for her. But, she liked 'em. I took them over to Mize in Gray, Tn. because Rebekah worked Horse Days. She thanked me for them. Even asked, "Did you MAKE them?" Of course. All from scratch, ma'am!

And then had so much batter left over that I made a one layer cake as well. Didn't use their icing recipe. Used the one that Nigella suggests for her Guinness chocolate cake: creme cheese, confectioner's sugar, and whipping cream.

Sadly, no photos of cupcakes. They never look as grand as ones others make. I either overfill the cups or underfill them. This time, I underfilled them, and their appearance was rather poor. Sad, actually. Yet, they tasted good. I was very pleased with how they came out. Yum. Super good. Will definitely make this recipe again. And even though my batter and icing were much more strawberry loaded than the recipe called for, I still had at least a half pint of berries remaining in that container. So now what to do with the remaining 3 pints?

strawberry surprise

It's strawberry time in East Tennessee. Bought these fresh off the Scott's truck, so to speak, yesterday afternoon. I spotted the Scott's building set up in Mize's parking lot earlier this week and ached to stop by and buy a gallon. This year's crop looks lovelier than last years. And the smell? Oh, it's heavenly.

So I have a special strawberry dessert in mind for these. Hope it comes out well. Will let y'all know. But, don't hate me, cause I have fresh, locally grown, strawberries! May go back and buy a greater amount to freezer or can or preserve in some manner.

seriously unstructured scones

Believe it or not, my favorite scone recipe is one of Tyler Florence's. It's from Real Kitchen. Can't quote you the page number though.

What is finer than a sweet biscuit? When I was young, I'd only eat the innards of a biscuit because the tough bottom and crunchy tops didn't suit me. I liked that tender in-between bread best of all. Also made sure my Mamaw cut the crusts of my toast, or else I nibbled around the edges and left all those cripsy crusts behind. I'm still that way, sometimes. And mostly I ate homemade biscuits and rolls, but occasionally there'd be one of those kinds that come in the cans you had to pop open. I can't recall the exact name of the brand, but there was one whose innards peeled apart in fine layers. That was a treat, but didn't last too terribly long. had to go through biscuit after biscuit after...

But Tyler's scone recipe is my favorite because you don't overwork the dough. You sift flour, salt, sugar, and baking powder together first, mix in 5 tablespoons of butter, then make a well for the heavy cream, then fold in the berries. I probably under work the dough, and that's why my scones are seriously unstructured. These aren't scones that you roll out and use a cookie cutter on. Tyler tells you to make a rough rectangle then cut that in half, then in fourths, and then slice those into triangles. It works.

They fall apart when you lift them from the parchment paper. I usually skip the lemon glaze, though I'm sure it's tasty. I've made these with all kinds of berries, but blueberries are my favorite and I happen to have at least two more pints in my fridge; usually they accompany my morning cereal.

These were Sunday's breakfast. Yum. Hot from the oven. No need for butter at all.

the french toastiest

I took the day off today because I could. And because Ian would be home much of the day. Having him home for almost an entire day is rare, so I wanted to spend my day with him. He got up, let out the dogs, and unknownst to me, ate a bowl of cereal while he fed our pack of dogs.

I texted him and asked if he wanted French Toast this morning. But he left his phone on the bedside table. I called him on the home phone and that is when he told me he ate cereal.

"But go ahead and make French Toast," he said. "I'll eat a piece."

So I came into the kitchen, got out my utensils and pan, and got to work. Just used two slices of sourdough bread from a loaf he picked up at the store a few days ago. It was well into the loaf, so those slices were huge. Dipped them in two beaten eggs, then threw them into my pan all slicked up with melted butter.

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They cooked in no time. I finished up mine with blueberries, confectioner's sugar, and a little white corn syrup. Ian's had the confectioner's sugar and Mrs. Butterworth's. No blueberries for him.

Great way to start out the day with a semi-hot (cause it had cooled in the time I took me to snap a few photos) home-cooked breakfast.

spoonbread or corn pudding?

Of late I'm frequently inspired by Baking Bites. The first recipe I've tried from that site/blog is the Buttermilk Spoon Bread. Its preparations were a little unusual; not what I'm used to. You take your milk and buttermilk along with the cornmeal and bring it to just under a simmer in a saucepan. I did that part. But I didn't follow the rest of the directions exactly. Plus, I added more sugar and some corn niblets from my freezer.

Another thing: I didn't use yellow cornmeal. I always use white, like my mother. There's something about yellow cornmeal, yellow cornbread, that makes me think "cheap." In my mind I feel it's coarser tasting than the "refined" white cornmeal. I don't know if that's southern. Or something else. My mom was born in Baltimore, but her mom was from the same area that I live now in East Tennessee. And so I don't know how, or whether, other culinary influences made their way into their repertoires. But I believe that sugar in cornbread is a Northern thing, not so much Southern.

Anyway, I cooked this spoon bread variant 30 minutes, five more than the recipe called for and it didn't turn golden brown, though I have issues with golden brown, too. I'm so silly. Really. But I don't like my toast, or anything baked to ever reach any color close to brown. Amber is more my taste.

A few weeks ago I brought a container of raspberry honey home to my honey. Cause I like surprising him with unusual food items and this one just happened to be sweet. Whew boy it was sweet on my spoon bread. I ate a small portion. It was hot. And good. But seemed more like cornmeal mush than spoon bread. Guess that's what I get for not following instructions closely. I may stick to corn pudding from now on.

tub o' hummus

avoiding that center garnish

Surely my eating habits are not an anomaly.  I like to think that I'm not bizarre. I'm prone to obsess over one thing for weeks and then be over and done with it. Not rice, I'm still on that kick. But my supplemental food obsession began last week when I cracked open a tub of hummus and started dipping melba toast rounds into it.

Then after Ian finished the last of the melba toast rounds without telling me, I went crazy for a short time. But then we stopped at Fresh Market on the way home from Atlanta Sunday and I bought some even-more-fabulous-than-melba-toast-rounds crackers. Ian loved them, too. He said they remind him of baked pita chips, but they're just really thick crackers seasoned with a bit of sea salt.

Hummus is a the perfect protein packing snack. It keeps me from feeling ravenous, which is a frequent thing of late. I've never been a constant snacker, but I am now.

the gypsy flies with sweet melissa

From the moment I opened The Sweet Melissa Baking Book, I knew my relationship with this cookbook would be different. First, lots of her recipes appealed to my sense of taste immediately. That doesn't always happen. Like that Magnolia book? Eh. I opened, I browsed, and I never made the first thing from the book because while the products looked appealing, their flavor combinations were short of interesting me.

Another aspect to my fondness for Sweet Melissa is the book's design. The cover art is delicious. Its typography is inviting and I love the honey bees buzzing around the page. There are at least six or eight glossy pages of photos showing off the dishes with delightful styling.

And every time I think about the book, that line from the Allman Brothers tune haunts me. I'm hearing it in my head. Will have to get out my Allman Brothers greatest hits CD and listen to it in the kitchen. But hey, what is more appropriate in a southern kitchen than listening to the Allman Brothers? Okay, I can name at least a dozen other good old southern fried rockers or creoles or folkies or bluegrass or blues people to listen to in the kitchen. But it's Allman Brothers in honor of Sweet Melissa.

As a huge fan of cooking with Guinness, I stopped at the Guinness Gingerbread, and it was the first recipe I tried. Loved that it uses white pepper and a generous amount of ginger. There's also dutch process cocoa, which I found unusual, because my favorite gingerbread recipe, circa 1934 from the only cookbook my Mamaw Lestie owned and cooked from certainly doesn't put that much ginger in there or any white pepper at all in there.

For at least two weeks now I've hoped for the energy to get in the kitchen and cook. My health has been iffy. Nothing serious, just dead dog tired all the time, and so lounging on the couch reading or knitting appeals to me much more than serious work in the kitchen. Anyway, I worked through my tiredness, donned a new fancy Anthropologie apron I bought in Seattle or Philadelphia, and turned to the recipe.

I had all the ingredients! I bought fresh eggs and a package of dark brown sugar at the store in advance. I was ready. I preheated the oven. I buttered and floured my square pan. But it wasn't the 9 x 9 x 2 that Melissa Murphy indicated. I wasn't about to go out and buy one. I was ready to bake. And I wondered what kind of difference it made in the end.

It didn't. The 8 x 8 x 2 pan I had on hand, or in cupboard,  worked fine. It worked perfectly.

Threw all the dry ingredients together into a bowl and then read that I should SIFT. So I sifted. That wasn't a major deal. I love to sift, actually, it so throws me back to my childhood and cooking with Mamaw because she almost always had something for me to sift. And I have an old-fashioned sifter like hers, though not hers.

Had to use a brand of molasses I wasn't thrilled with. But since I don't keep it on hand, I used what I had, and it did the trick.  Ian spied the bowl later and asked what I made with chocolate in it. I suggested that what he thought was chocolate was actually molasses.

Then it baked for 50-60 minutes. At 48 minutes I inserted the wooden end of a matchstick into the cake and nothing came off. Yeah, I looked around for toothpicks. This is not the first time I've used a matchstick in a pinch. Ian didn't find the toothpicks, either, and so he pulled the plastic off a new box of matches and handed me one.

I cut the Guinness Gingerbread into 9 pieces and put two on two plates for our dessert. It was thick, dense, and could have supported the weight of a can of soup, no doubt. But I didn't try that.

We dug into our pieces and I was disappointed. It was dry, heavy, almost like a brownie, but not even a moist brownie. It reminded me of a bad batch of brownies I made for a boyfriend when I was 15. Ian liked it, liked the flavor. I did too, though. But I needed a glass of milk to dip it into. Then I said, "Gosh if the recipe had oil or butter in it, it'd be good." Got out the book again, turned to the page, and there, at the bottom, it lists cup of oil.

My mise en place is never in place, and somehow I missed that last, that vital ingredient. I decided to throw out that batch and try again.

If you'd like a copy of Sweet Melissa, let me know by leaving a comment and I'll select someone, if there's more than one, to send the book to. It's too good a book not to share it. I feel really selfish by keeping it all to myself.