christmas bake-off part one:

Dark chocolate-dipped peppermint meringues.

A quick dip in super dark chocolate surprised with a nice contrast to the super-sweet melty peppermint meringues. I was inspired by this Martha Stewart recipe, but totally baffled about how to present a sandwich cookie that is pointy on both ends (other than on... is that chicken wire in her picture?).
Highly recommended as a simple, light cookie alternative. And it is-wait for it- gluten free!
Leftovers can be crumbled to top ice cream sundaes or hot chocolate, too.

gingerbread houses are hard.

Leave it to my good friend Marissa to host a gingerbread house-building event! Little did we know cookie and frosting construction would be so challenging. I have a new-found respect for all of the parents (and teachers) who endeavor to make these structures with small children. Crumbling cookies and frosting avalanches followed by an inevitable sugar crash must be quite a chore...

After much experimentation and several glasses of wine, we did manage to build solid cookie homes without the use of Gorilla Glue.

Following are not the most amazing photos, but they are really an adequate representation of the event:

So it began, just a simple home. Spray icing, some trees, a spice drop roof, peppermint doors--


And then, the dinosaurs attacked!


My partner-in-crime's wintery pterodactyl home.

The finished products, side by side; a tiny community rooted in high fructose corn syrup and multi-colored sprinkles.

And somehow secure enough to survive the car ride home. And now, my home is twice as decorated for Christmas as it was yesterday morning.

sweet christmas inspiration

Partridge in a Pear Tree, In Gingerbread

from Not Martha

Pretty Sugar Cookies

from Brookie's Cookies

Peppermint Bark

from Vanilla Garlic via The One in Pink

Eggnog Creme Brulee

from Citrus and Candy

Cranberry Sorbet

from Annie's Eats

A Twist on Spritz

from Hungry Cravings

Fruitcake?

from Food for Poems

Boozy Spiced Cider

from Savory Sweet Life

Holiday Brew Beer Floats

from Caroline on Crack at Bottlerock Downtown LA

Any Christmas sweet traditions you'd like to share? Or new trends to try?

celebration bread

For unknown reasons, Thanksgiving morning left me with some time on my hands. Plenty of prep work was done in advance; my mother-in-law made pecan pie and I finished my pumpkin tart and apple crisp on Wednesday. The side dishes were well on their way, so beyond the bird, my tasks were under control.

But you know me, I like a challenge.

Inspired by a co-worker, I decided to bake a nice loaf of bread. Even though I haven't eaten bread in several years, the process of kneading, watching the dough rise, thumping the loaf for the perfect hollow sound, and slicing the still slightly steaming bread brings me much satisfaction.

Challah.

This Jewish celebration bread made for a festive evening treat. Simple braiding added something special-- the recipe header told me that the braids represent truth, beauty, and purity. The loaf was crusty and light-- surprisingly so for not requiring a starter. I served it with local honey from our failed apple orchard trip.

Fresh bread is always worth the extra effort.-- especially when guests are anticipating turkey and cranberry sandwiches for days to come!

Recipe source: Peter Reinhart's The Breadbaker's Apprentice.

apples to apples, or, why this post doesn't have pictures of pie.

Oh technology, how you've failed me again. Or is nature the root of my distress?

This Saturday, the man, a couple of friends, and their adorable three-month-old baby and I drove from LA to Oak Glen, CA to have a lovely pseudo-Midwestern autumn day of apple picking. It seemed close to the end of prime-picking season, so we checked websites and called to make sure the orchards were open. Still selling? Yep. Baby buckled in? Check. Little cooler full of snacks? Got it.

Anyway, what the website and recorded messages failed to tell us was that the entire Southern California apple crop had been lost in an early freeze in September. Such a letdown! I had started to pout when the man scooted up behind me. "I feel so bad for the guy," he said. "All of his apples died. We should at least buy something from him..."

He disappeared into the crafty-kitsch shop; you know, the one filled with a mix of lace-trimmed kitchen linens, local self-published cookbooks, and little jars of preserves and sandwich spreads. Carmel apples (from fruit "imported" from Central California), little jars of honey and crazy-expensive gallon of pressed cider soon emerged, neatly packed in white paper bags with red tissue, held by a pleased-looking man.

I forced a smile but felt slighted. Not only was I disappointed as my dreams of pork chops and fresh apple sauce went to the freezer, but I also smelled bruised fruit. Who should I blame for my lack of freshly-plucked, shiny-crisp apples? Could I be smug that we still supported the farmer and his crafty shop, or just feel deceived by the his dishonesty about climate change?

I'll get back to you after I'm finished typing my ventings and eating my waxy supermarket apple thankyouverymuch.

a poem:

"so you want to buy my cupcakes."

so you want to buy my cupcakes
that i made a few weeks past
twenty bacon maple cupcakes
lazy baking just won’t last

made them for a party
then got kicked out of the bar
chef didn’t like my bacons
so they ate them by the car

now you want to buy my cupcakes
and how much do i charge?
sugar salt sprinkled bacon cupcakes
the fee? oh, it is large!

six dollars for the bacon
for best maple, maybe twelve
got eggs vanilla flour
could use them from my shelf

but you want to buy my cupcakes?
to sell them at your store?
free meat for life, and then we’ll deal
three steaks a day, or four!

(you know you missed my poems.)

the best kind of sandwich

This week, I threw away two boxes of sugar. Not two whole boxes, only the end of a box of white sugar and dark brown sugar because I couldn't seem to resist digging into them with a spoon. Just because I no longer eat run-of-the-mill baked goods doesn't mean I don't have a nagging sweet tooth. I usually can distract it with ridiculously "healthy" options like fresh fruit or a few glasses of wine, but when there's brown sugar on the shelf, my self control goes out the window. So, the leftover sugar went in the trash.

I baked half of a batch of snickerdoodles for an impromptu pregnant sister-in-law visit and planned on saving the second half for home group bake-off, but the sugar situation threw me for a curve. I couldn't bear to bake the rest without rolling them in cinnamon and sugar first! I scavenged enough packets of raw sugar to bake most of them for home group, but had a bit of extra dough. I tossed it in the freezer and baked it up tonight-- and the six cookies made for a lovely Friday night post-chili dinner dessert.

Accompanied by Haagan-Daz 5-ingredient brown sugar ice cream, it was quite the decadent treat.



At least, that's what I was told while eating my raspberries.

Here's the snickerdoodle recipe, if you're interested.

1 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups white sugar
2 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon dark corn syrup (I know, corn syrup. Just do it.)

2 tablespoons white sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

Directions:

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C).
Cream together butter, 1 1/2 cups sugar, the eggs and the vanilla. Blend in the flour, cream of tartar, soda and salt. Refrigerate until cool and firm. Shape dough by rounded spoonfuls into balls.
Mix the 2 tablespoons sugar and the cinnamon. Roll balls of dough in mixture. Place 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheets.
Bake 6 to 8 minutes, until just brown at the edges. Remove immediately from baking sheets.
Let cool and sandwich with the best ice cream you can find. Eat while watching a wonderfully pretentious film like Helvetica.

(Modified from Mrs. Sigg's Snickerdoodles at allrecipes.com)

"How does it compare to Diddy Riese?" I asked the man, who had a belly full of chili, cornbread, and beer.
"Better," he mumbled, then promptly fell asleep.
I'm so manipulative.