It's a Box!

Yay! The doorbell rang & I got a box!

I really love those, ya know.

Let's check out today's box, shall we.

No layers of wrapping or distractions of fluff here. A single layer of newspaper is folded back to reveal...


Is it?

Could it be?

My sister, PJ has unwittingly fed my addiction. She sent:

CookieHenge

I'm shocked. She should know that there is more than just love when it comes to girl scout cookies. (I have an addiction, as chronicled here). I'm not sure she realizes that I have this addiction, but I have realized that addiction is something to discuss with your family, not hide.

She was strong this time. She sent the cookies away. She knew that had she allowed the cookies in her house again, she would not be able to resist their sirens call. Yes, she confessed to me what transpired with her first order of girl scout cookies (She has a niece who is a girl scout as well as the daughter of her best friend. She is required by the laws of friendship & aunthood to order cookies from these girls). What tragedy could have occurred that PJ would not even allow girl scout cookies in her house?

Her confession began, "I can't even look at them, I picked up the order and drove straight to the shipping place to send them away again"

"Why, dear sister, whatever happened to cause this distress?" I inquired sweetly, concerned.

"The first order came in. It started innocently enough, Maggie & Don don't like Samoas, so they gave me their boxes. After the initial shock that someone could actually not like a Girl Scout Cookie, I began to feel bad for the poor little cookies. " Her narrative began slow, thoughtful.
"The girls looked so hopeful on the box. I couldn't let them down, so I opened the box to have one. I just wanted them to feel better. Then one led to another," she took a deep breath here, and the words came tumbling out, "before I knew it, I had to hide the box. Not just from myself, I was too embarrassed by the number of cookies I had consumed to let anyone else know that they even came into the house.
"I hid them, and I waited. I slept fitfully, knowing they were down there--taunting me. The next day, when my husband was at work & the kids were in school, I attacked. I couldn't let them get to me anymore. So I finished them off."
I think a little sob escaped at this point, but she strongly continued her story. "First it was the Samoas, then the Tag-A-Longs, I ate them 2 at a time. Finally, well, the poor Thin Mints didn't stand a chance. After I licked the plastic container & had the last shred of coconut from the Samoas, I knew what I had to do." She took a deep breath, I could hear her smile.
"I destroyed the evidence. No one will ever know those cookies came into this house. I sent you the second order of cookies. I knew you would know what to do with them. I can't allow them in my house again! At least, not until next year..."

At this point I realized that the addiction, like an alcohol addiction, is probably genetic to a certain degree. I look back, and finally I understand why my mother wanted to be the leader of the brownie troop. It wasn't for the girls. It was for the cookies.

I was alone when I received the cookies. I held them close, and sniffed their aroma. Then I hid them away. The Tag-A-Longs went behind the purple rice, that I bought for a special occasion. The Samoas, buried deep beneath the large pile of canned tomatoes. And the Thin Mints, well, I'll just say they went into the deep freeze.

I fought the urge, to ravage those boxes. I too was home alone with those innocent looking delicacies. The ambrosia in a box. So far, I have been strong. But I know, well I know that umm excuse me. I'll finish this post later. I have to go defrost my freezer...

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Pizza Nights!

As I mentioned in my last post, I dove in & made Beth's Pizza Dough. I loved the fact that I did a little mixing & threw it in the fridge to deal with later. It was not a lot of work & made for a delicious couple dinners.

Saturday Night's Pizza got the full treatment of pics & narration, Monday's you'll just get the highlights

Friday night I mixed up the yeast, flour & water; it did not look like a "lumpy pancake batter" so I added a splash more water. My yeast expired last August (ok, I'm behind on my baking) but it was stored in the freezer, so I decided to go for it & see what would happen.

Saturday night, I pulled out the dough. In my elderly yeast did it's job & my dough rose in the fridge. (Yay!) So I divvied it up to Saturday night dough & Monday night dough & went on about my work.

I started stretching & pulling, going gently & stopping if the dough was cranky. HP asked if I could throw it in the air like real pizza guys. I tried & got a little air, but we'll just leave it that I made a great catch.

I moved my dough to the parchment paper to let it rest & began gathering my toppings. Sauce went first w/ a little cheese mixed in. It was home made from a batch I made a couple months ago. I don't recall the original use for it, but I made plenty. Glad I have pizza recipes to try it out on. Next went the basil, then caramelized onions and (left over) asparagus. It was topped with an Italian cheese blend (yes, the shredded stuff in the dairy section of the grocery store.) and into the oven it went. A few minutes later voilá it was dinner!

Not bad for a first pizza. The dough was a little thick in spots, and the whole thing probably could have benefited from another minute or two in the oven (HP was in charge of pulling things out of the oven on Saturday night and he seems to have been just a tad impatient.) The result was a thick, soft bready dough that tasted great and made a wonderful pizza. HP says the caramelized onions are what made it.


Monday night's pizza was a little less organized. We spent the first half the day at Daddo's house a couple hours ago, then drove home, dropped off The Girl at her mom's house. I knew I had the dough in the fridge & needed to get back to it, so we stopped at the grocery store for our toppings. Mixed mushrooms (shitake, baby bella, oyster & I don't remember what else is in the mix). A sweet onion and some fresh mozzarella balls from the deli. (the little ciglione or however that is spelled).

I pulled the dough out, it had been stored in a ziplock bag, so it seemed to have some bubbles in it, but as I worked it there was no problem. I put the onion & mushrooms on the stove w/a splash of wine & a knob of butter so they could caramelize away while I thawed some sauce, prepared the dough & preheated the oven. Then it dawned on me that I had used the last of the parchment paper on the kringla. Things were not looking good. I don't own a pizza peel, so I was in a bit of a sticky wicket. So I pulled my stone out of the oven & decided that it was going to be made directly on that. I added a little extra olive oil to my dough to avoid sticking, then mixed in some dried Tuscan herbs because it sounded good at the time.

I let the stone cool to a warm, but handleable temperature. I dusted it w/ corn meal and proceeded to stretch my dough on top. I was much more even handed than the first one & got a pretty uniform layer. After it rested, I smeared the dough with sauce, added the sliced mozzarella, next was basil, then the mushrooms & onions and topped with the Italian cheese & into the oven it went. We were a little more patient with the pizza (especially since the stone wasn't oven hot) and didn't retrieve it until everything was bubbling and toasted. The pizza turned out fabulous. The camera was still hidden away, so I didn't get a pic of this one, but it was even better than the first!


And a good dinner was had by all!

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in the kitchen, not on the kumputer

Am in the kitchen today (tonight)

Made pizza from beth's dough at http://ayearinbread.com/ It was quite yummy & I have pics! they will be posted next week. (promise) Our toppings were: homemade tomato sauce, parm. cheese, basil; caramelized onions (from here) asparagus tips (also left over from there) and mixed Italian Cheese. (from the grocery store. mozzarella, asiago, parmesan, romano, provolone shred & mixed)

Am currently boiling eggs for The Girl to dye when she gets off work at the ball park (in about 2 hours)

Also shortly to start said kringla. Actually started last night, but am baking tonight. And I'm leaving in 12 hours to see my dad. Miles to go before I sleep!

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I'll change this if I figure out what the point of this post is

It is 5:15, and I have no idea what I'm making for dinner. Last night's dinner was really good & I don't think I can meet those expectations. I'm not up for the pressure.

It is 5:15, and I should be in the kitchen, not on the computer. But the kitchen is a scary mess. Once upon a time, my husband told me that if I cooked, he'd clean. Silly me, I believed him. What was I thinking? In all fairness, this has been one of those weeks where we've both been busy & neither one of us was running at 100%, so we'd clean up a little then decide to come back to it.

Now I have to get back to it. I have no more clean measuring cups (not that I am committed to using them, but they are taking over valuable counter space) My kitchen truly is not large enough to handle dirty dishes. I have about 18 inches of counter space on a good day. If I clean off the island that serves as a kitchen table/crap collector/drop-off zone I can get another 24 inches or so.

EDITOR'S NOTE: THIS WAS A VERY BAD SEGUE I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THE POST & MAKING THIS NOTE IS EASIER THAN EDITING THE THE BEGINNING. PLEASE READ ON, YOU'LL LAUGH, I'LL CRY, IT'S BETTER THAN A ROOT CANAL

I'll have to clean & clear every spare inch if I'm going to follow through with my plans to make Kringla for The Girl as an Easter treat. Kringla is a Norwegian soft cookie (normally in the shape of an infinity sign, but this was the pic I found), and she loves it. Since she gave up sweets for Lent, I thought it would be a nice reward, as it is a very rare treat. I've only made it 2 times, though her grandmother will occasionally send it (store bought as it is a major project to make & grandma has enough going on).

A bit of history: HP's family is partially of Norwegian origin (you can't tell by looking at him though), when they emigrated to the US, his great grandfather (a former member of King Olaf's Royal Ski Patrol. I swear, I can't make this stuff up) changed the family name. Seems he thought Sveergard was too hard to spell. (In fact, I'm willing to bet I spelled it wrong) When he changed his last name, he picked something shorter, and translates roughly to "By the Fjord." Sadly, my husband didn't pay much attention to genealogy, he thought his name meant "Buy the Ford" and now we have a "Crapmobile" Contour that has started once in the past 3 months. (ok, I did make up the "buy the Ford" part, but the rest is true, including the dead crapmobile)

Kringla is labor intensive as well as space intensive. Last time I made it, I destroyed the cheap little hand blender that I used. The kids, worried that that could end my Kringla making career, got me a lovely little kitchen-aid hand blender for Christmas. Tragedy averted!


So, I feel that the kitchen-aid is up to the task, the real question is am I?

I'm not sure what this image is, but it came up when I was trying to do an image search for Kringla, does it mean No Kringla?

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